#annie and finnick

[literallymikewheeler]

oh my favorite trope? two people who love each other so much its like breathing

[mariigoldzz]

Finnick and Annie ─ The Hunger Games Trilogy

And suddenly, it's as if there's no one in the world but these two, crashing through space to reach each other. They collide, enfold, lose their balance, and slam against a wall, where they stay. Clinging into one being. Indivisible. A pang of jealousy hits me. Not for either Finnick or Annie but for their certainty. No one seeing them could doubt their love.

[anniecrestalover]

okay the idea of finnick not knowing he’s gonna be a father is sad but him knowing is even sadder. imagine him trying so hard to get back because he knows it isn’t just Annie waiting for him. imagine him promising Annie he’ll come back for both of them. imagine Finnick being so excited to be a father, only to never meet his child in this lifetime.

[allisluv]

BLOOD RUNS THICKER THAN WATER— a odesta fanfic

pairing: annie cresta x finnick o'dair

trigger warnings: everything that comes with the hunger games, the capitol not understanding mental illnesses, self-harm (will not be graphic at all), forced prostitution. please note i will update this list as we go on!!

a/n: it’s been a long time coming yall but i finally have motivation to start this fic! thank you for all your support and i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it! you can find this fic on wattpad (allisonslover1) or ao3 (allisonslover). reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

next chapter

chapter one — the reaping

Annie shifts onto her side as the morning sun begins to creep in through the gaps in her worn curtains. She kicks her linen duvet off her legs and stretches out in the sweat-soaked sheets in an attempt to cool down. You would think she was well-equipped to handle the heat in District Four after living there for the last eighteen years, but apparently not. 

It doesn't take long for Annie to hear a pair of footsteps padding down the hall. Her door creaks on its hinges and she looks over her shoulder, extending her arms as Marina crawls into bed beside her. 

Annie smooths her little sister's hair off her forehead and says, "Do you want to talk about it?" Marina shakes her head and nuzzles her face into her blue stuffed animal, a whale called Martha. "You shouldn't be nervous. You're too young to be reaped," Annie reminds her gently. 

"It doesn't stop me worrying about you, though," Marina admits quietly. 

Annie lets a sigh push past her lips. "It's my last year. The chances of me being reaped are zero to none. Besides, I can take care of myself. Don't get yourself worked up over nothing," she chastises. There's no venom behind her tone – there never is with Annie. "Come on, let's get dressed. We ought to be leaving as soon as possible." 

Annie unwinds Marina's arms from around her neck and sends her into her own room to pick out an outfit. She stands to her feet, sifting through the contents of her wardrobe, before settling on a floral pattern dress. It used to be her mother's, and it swims on her, but she likes it too much to care. 

She pulls her night-gown over her head and steps into the dress, yanking the straps over her shoulders and reaching back to tie the mint-green bow. Running a brush through her flaming red hair, she clips it back, securing it with a few bobby pins that dig into her scalp. 

Marina returns to her older sister's bedroom, dressed in a baby blue jumpsuit that is two sizes too small. Her light brown hair bounces down her back with every movement and Annie can't help but envy the fact that her sister inherited their mother's genetics.

Marina is small and light, with high cheekbones that even out her face and dazzling blue eyes that could easily stop traffic. Annie, on the other hand, follows their father– from her fiery red hair and sharp eyebrows to the fact that she can never mask a single thing she feels. Her brother, River, is somewhere in the middle. He's level-headed like their father but frets about everything like their mother. 

Annie hoists Marina up onto her hip and ignores the way her long hair tickles the back of her neck. She ventures down the stairs, almost slipping in her black socks, and pulls a pair of white sneakers over her feet when she reaches the bottom.

Marina wriggles in her sister's iron grip and Annie sets her down on the floor, letting her run into the kitchen where she can hear the familiar clink of River's keys hitting the marble countertop. Marina giggles in delight and Annie can only assume that he has picked her up and spun her in his arms. 

She hovers in the doorway, reluctant to ruin the moment, but her feet carry her inside on their own accord. Her sneakers squeak against the shiny tile floors and River looks up. 

His dark hair falls in his eyes and he keeps throwing his head back in an effort to make it fall back in place. "You ready to go?" he gives Marina a playful tap on the nose and she giggles.

Annie smiles and ties a white knitted cardigan around her waist. It hardly ever rains in District Four, but she likes to be prepared (another trait she inherited from her father). River places Marina on the floor and Annie grabs hold of her hand as they step outside. 

"When will I start training for the games, Annie?" Marina asks as they walk towards the town square. "I want to volunteer, just like Finnick did." The steadiness in her voice makes her older sister's heart work overtime. 

Annie tries to hold her tongue but the words slip out of her mouth before she has a chance to stop it. "I don't know why people volunteer to be sent to their deaths." Her face burns scarlet when she realises what she should not dare say aloud. 

River's mouth hangs open and he tosses a paranoid glance over his shoulder. "Don't talk nonsense, Annie. If Zale Morrissey hadn't beaten me to it, I would've been proud to represent District Four. It’s a privilege. Besides, all of our training has to go somewhere. Why not channel it into something more productive?"

"Like killing other children?" 

River is caught by surprise – it's not often that his sister stands up to him. He regains control of his facial expressions and smooths out invisible creases in his crisp ironed suit. "We're Careers, Ann. You'd do well to remember that from time to time. You don't want to volunteer, that's fine by me. I won’t hold it against you, I just think you're wasting your potential, that's all I’m saying."

Their conversation trails off as they near the Justice Building. Camera crews are positioned on the outskirts of the town square and anxious parents wait behind a red rope as their daughters and sons sign in. 

Annie gives Marina’s hand a reassuring squeeze and presses a chaste kiss to her brother’s cheek before weaving her way through the crowds to the roped off area in front of the stage. The other eighteen-year-old tributes file in and she soon finds herself standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the girls from District Four. 

It doesn’t take long for the mayor to take the podium. He reads a set of cue cards about the dark days and motions for Elodie, a Capitol issued escort, to take the stage. 

She’s relatively young to be an escort, Annie thinks. Her jet black hair is pulled back in a French twist and her full lips turn up into a smile. She spreads her arms out like an eagle and her plum-coloured jumper creases down the middle. “Welcome! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour. As always, ladies first!” 

Elodie crosses over to the glass bowl and reaches inside. Her fingers fumble for a minute before she pulls out a crumpled slip of paper and trots back to the podium in her pink stilettos. Elodie smooths out the slip and loudly clears her throat into the microphone. “Annie Cresta!” 

Some girls surrounding Annie nudge her forwards with their sharp, bony elbows and she very nearly loses her footing. Her hands fly out and she grabs hold of someone’s shoulder, holding tightly as her heart starts to hammer in her chest. 

Her mother’s voice rings in her head, reminding her that first impressions will stick. It doesn’t sound like anyone is volunteering, so whether she likes it or not, she needs to pull herself together. She pushes her way through the crowd with her head held high, even though her legs feel like jello and her heart might give out on her. 

She’s moving on autopilot as she steps onto the stage. It feels surreal, in a way, like she’s been yanked out of her body and is being forced to watch her life on a television screen. 

Elodie squeezes her shoulder in what’s supposed to be a reassuring gesture but all it does is leave hard fingerprint marks indented in her soft skin. “Now for the boys.” She feels around in the glass bowl and holds a singular piece of paper between her index finger and her thumb. “Your male tribute is… Morgan Brooks!” 

In the crowd, Annie spots a tiny little thing being jostled towards the stage. His skin is pale and his baby blue eyes are wide as he stumbles up the stairs leading to the stage. He trips on the last step and falls flat on his face. There’s a murmur from the Peacekeepers but none of them move an inch.

Annie doesn’t know what possesses her to help him, but she hooks her hands under his armpits and hauls him up onto his feet. She can feel his bones poking out through his t-shirt and it makes her wonder when the last time he ate was.  

Elodie laughs awkwardly as Annie makes her way to the other side of the stage. Morgan’s face has flushed bright red as he tries to smooth out his clothes. 

Elodie runs a hand through her mane of black hair. “Let's give a hand to this year’s tributes!” she announces, voice all faux and high-pitched. “Something tells me it’s going to be an… eventful year for District Four!”

[pr1mrosez]

Time

It was the moment that Annie Cresta-Odair got the news that her entire world fell around her. Her husband was dead, the only real mother she’d ever known was dead, and Panem was trying to rebuild itself after the fall of the capitol. She was pregnant. She was happy, but at the same time, finding this news out just felt so suffocating that she didn’t know if she’d make it.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 She had felt the same feeling when Finnick died. Not the time when the capitol news had announced it, but when he really died. When the news had announced it, she knew it was fake. Then, there was a while after, and she felt it. It was like a stab to the heart. She knew he was gone that time. It was the most overwhelming and unbearable pain she’d ever felt. It forced her to her knees, tears running down her face as Primrose Everdeen had rushed to be by her side. “Annie? What happened, what’s wrong?” The young teen had asked her. Annie held onto Prim’s hand, only whispering “He’s gone.. He’s really gone, this time” Prim could only hug her as the new widow sobbed. She quietly prayed to whatever higher power that could exist that Annie’s feeling was wrong. That Finnick, Katniss, and the team were safe. Her prayers were only partially true.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 It was the same suffocating feeling that had emotionally paralyzed her when she saw her district partner beheaded in her games, and then swam until the helicopter came to save her, to declare her the winner of the games. 

She hadn’t really understood much of anything until she was enveloped in Finnick’s warm embrace. She had felt like a shell of a human until all she could feel was his chest rising up and down in beat to his breaths. His kiss on the crown of her head, his quiet whispers, thanking god she had made it. At that moment, she wasn’t so sure making it was what she had wanted, but she had to be strong. She had to continue on. For Finnick. For Mags. But she didn’t find living for herself happy anymore. Then, she was known as the victor that went crazy. The one who ‘couldn’t take it’, the one that should have died in the arena that year.

Finnick tried to reassure her, but she couldn’t seem to get out of that moment in her life for a long time. She couldn’t enjoy swimming like she used to because it reminded her of when she had to swim just to stay alive. 

She learned to get better with time. Mags helped, as did Finnick, and she started making jewelry. It was known as the Cresta Collection. She made it out of fishnet, pearls, seashells and whatever Finnick had brought back if he went to the beach.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Time passed, and she was finally able to step foot on the beach again, going on short walks with Finnick, and when Mags was feeling well enough. That's when the announcement happened. Annie had been in her home, making pearl jewelry.

The sounding of capitol news played all throughout Victors Village, making the three victors walk to the living room where the announcement was being made. ‘THE MALE AND FEMALE TRIBUTES SHALL BE REAPED FROM THE EXISTING POOL OF VICTORS’President Snow’s voice rang loudly in Annie’s ears. She started to feel herself slip back into that helpless and desperate girl she was back when she won, back when she started going insane. She covered her ears, begging for someone to turn off the screen, someone to stop the talking. 

Annie felt as if she were back in the games, seeing her friend’s head cut off, feeling the cold water, but this time, her imagination was letting her die this time. It was an unbearable feeling, the water filling her lungs. But it wasn’t real. Annie was trying to remind herself that it wasn’t real, but she just couldn’t get out of her own head. It wasn’t until she felt that familiar warmth that she could start to pick what was real and what was not. Finnick must’ve heard the news, because he was here now. Holding her, whispering calming messages into her ear as she calmed down in his arms. But Finnick wasn’t here anymore. She’d never be able to feel that warmth again. Never be able to dance with him again. Never be able to hold him and tell him how much she loved him.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Annie could barely handle it when Mags was gone. She remembered Reaping day for the 75th games.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 They were taken and marched by peacekeepers from Victors Village. Finnick was holding Annie’s hand tightly, helping ease the feeling of impending doom she felt in the very pit of her stomach. A Capitol woman wearing brightly colored clothes and bright green eyeshadow stepped forward. She looked excited as she started talking. Annie wanted to wrap her hands around the woman’s throat for being excited to send two people to their almost guaranteed death. 

Annie knew how it would go. Finnick had to go, he was the only male victor from district 4. If Mags was picked, she’d volunteer. As much as she hated the games, She knew Mags wouldn’t make it again. She was too fragile. Too old. Annie could never be okay with herself if Mags went in and she didn’t stop it if she had a chance.

The woman smiled towards the crowd “The female tribute shall be..!” She opened the small slip of paper and announced “Annie Cresta!” Annie felt a jolt of panic go through her entire being, her face staying neutral. That was only until Mags raised her hand, pointing to herself. Mags couldn’t speak anymore, but Annie knew what she was doing. She was volunteering. Annie shook her head, a sob escaping her throat “ Mags, no! Please don’t do this!” Mags pulled her into a tight hug before the woman held up another slip. “And the Male tribute shall be.. Finnick Odair!” Annie sobbed quietly, knowing that both of them were going back to the games and she could do nothing to stop it. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 Annie was left alone with her thoughts for way too long. She watched the games only to see if Mags and Finnick were alright. Annie had sobbed as she watched Mags walk into the fog. She could barely continue to see that Finnick was okay. It wasn’t until a while later that Katniss shot the barrier. That was when the peacekeepers came to collect her. They had promised to bring her to Finnick. They Lied.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 Now they were both dead. And it was her fault. Annie hadn’t come up with a way to stop them. Her baby had to grow up without a father because she couldn’t save him. The only mother figure she had ever had was taken to her death. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

It wasn’t until months later that her baby was born. Annie was better. Katniss and Peeta had helped her, and so did Johanna. Ms. Everdeen taught her many things about being a mother to a newborn, and Annie felt a somewhat sense of being okay. They were there for her, and helped her build a new little life of her own, surrounding her with love and support. 

She thought about Finnick and Mags every single day, telling her new son River all about them. River looked exactly like Finnick with the exception of her own fiery red hair. When he was born, she finally felt somewhat okay. 

Her little boy had been her saving grace in the middle of her path of self destruction. Having him had made her realize that she couldn’t think about just herself anymore. She reminded herself that she had someone else to take care of, which helped her develop a routine. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Katniss and Peeta were the best godparents to exist, and would make their way to visit her and River, especially on the dates, like Finnick or Mags’ birthdays, the days they died, anything like that.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Having them made her feel like she’d finally be okay. 

Healing just took time.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 https://archiveofourown.org/works/52313188

[astro-tag-9]

Hi, for the couple tag

Girl- pisces sun Gemini moon taurus rising

Boy- leo sun capricorn moon cancer rising

Thank you 💖

💚Annie and Finnick💚

[livingfandomly]

SotR is a realisation. A realisation that the rebellion didn’t start with Katniss. That all the people we see supporting her or helping her have all been wanting to fight but they’ve been failing. That there weren’t merely “rumours” of a revolution but there were many active plans playing out and failing.

It’s a reminder that the perfect Hunger Games we saw in the first hg book was an illusion because we had Katniss as our narrator. We didn’t have Haymitch, hell, we didn’t even have someone like Peeta because these people played the games. Katniss didn’t.

Katniss was introduced to us as a mad, simple, naive girl who literally only survived because of others. She didn’t know how much her taking Prim’s place mattered because she didn’t realise what it meant to everyone who came before her. To everyone who had heard rumours of how the last District 12 victor actually fought his games. No, Katniss had just kept her head down, hunting and providing for her family.

See, she grew up way before the Games got to her. She’d already lived through her dad’s death and watched it destroy her once lively mom. Haymitch didn’t have to go through that. Lucy Gray didn’t have to go through that. They were both angry, yes, but at the Capitol. Katniss? She was first and foremost angry at her mom. At her dad. She knew who was to blame but she had too much to do and deal with to think about that. She was already jaded in a way that the Games couldn’t touch.

Peeta? He was Haymitch. He knew what he was getting into and realised he was just on a chess board with no control. So, he adapted. He played the knight, the rook, the king, the pawn. Katniss? She just… did. Changing directions, not playing the piece she was assigned because she didn’t realise that’s what was going on. Remember her surprise at the crown twisting into two after the Games?? She was so oblivious. Until Catching Fire where everything caught up to her. Where everything so many other people had been waiting and working for caught up to her.

SotR is a history book. Rewritten and edited and published as a piece of fact. SotR is a mirror and it’s a reflection of what actually happens vs what ends up being shown. SotR is the playbook of those in control of any and every kind of media that we come in touch with. SotR is a wake up call and I truly don’t know how many will see it as such.

[cashmeresglimmer]

The survivors of District 12 singing and dancing at Finnick and Annie's wedding hits so different after reading/watching tbosas. Can you imagine Snow's reaction to that propo? No matter how hard he tried to erase Lucy Gray and to obliterate District 12, she lived on in her music, music which is kept alive by the people of the place she once called home.

[lady-corrine]

Thinking again about how Suzanne esentially subverted the "beloved famous man that is actually a horrible person in real life" with Finnick, who is the complete opposite of that.

Finnick has this whole image costructed around him by the people that abused him for years: the Capitol's darling, their golden boy, the sex symbol of Panem, the man that has countless lovers but leaves them constantly and doesn't look back etc. And you would expect, initially, to meet a man that retains at least a part of that persona in his day to day life. But Finnick doesn't, not even one bit.

You see instead a man that is deeply in love and completely devoted to the one woman he quite literally adores, a man that protects Mags, his old mentor and his mother figure, as much as he can, a man that wouldn't leave Johanna behind, a man that gathers whatever strenght he has left to speak publicly about the abuse inflicted upon him at the government's hands; the opposite of what the Capitol's media and reputation made him out to be.

[foxdoodles]

odesta come home pls

[aco1yte]

Sorry for inactivity, crazy busy recently :( I watched tbosas and fell headfirst back into my hunger games phase - been fully rereading the books too so take some art

[fantasybuff96]

In Mockingjay Part 2 when Peeta has lost his mind and is dropped off with Katniss and the rebel party who are about to kill Snow. The others treat Peeta as a threat, but Finnick steps in when they raise their weapons against Peeta and is shown the entire time as being patient with him and has Peeta repeat phrases that help his mind and that he would need to repeat to Panem, and he also advises him to just ask when Peeta tells Katniss he doesn’t know the difference between what’s real or not real.

Finnick is the only one in the party that has the patience for Peeta (outside of Katniss’s love for Peeta that is) when his mind is shattered because he's used to helping and being so patient over the years with Annie that he immediately does it with Peeta.

[anton-wyzek]

Remember what he did to them

[anniecrestalover]

you guys i love annie and finnick so much it’s not healthy anymore

[allisluv]

blood runs thicker than water masterlist

chapter one -- the reaping

[swirlingyouintomypoems]

I think I’m hilarious. Just btw.

masterlist