#finnick lives

[ninjapiratelady]

Honestly bizarre to me that some of y'all are out here writing Hunger Games fanfiction that have relatively nothing to do with Finnick and you still say that he's dead?

Like....."Peeta and I went to Four for a week to see my mother and Annie and the baby."

Vs "Peeta and I went to Four for a week to see my mother and Finnick, Annie, and the baby." So easy. Whatch'all leavin' him dead for??

[tenaciousmoneymuffinzine]

It has come to my attention that some of you silly billies have the wrong copy of Mockingjay where Finnick dies? What?

Anyway, here's a Google doc where I've rewritten the scenes correctly so y'all can fix your books. Enjoy and let me know if I made any mistakes or if you have suggestions. ✌🏼

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1PpVLS6Om9PHUK56GPIBC9z5bT-7cuvXVeRqKUxWL--U/edit?usp=drivesdk

[wispmemt]

Holding you, Holding me.

You've always hated the beach. The way the sand embedded itself in your clothes and never got out, the din of the wind, the seashells poking out from the sand just begging for you to make a wrong step and step onto them... unfortunately for you, your husband loves the beach.

After your escapade to the sea, you think your opinion might have changed.

warnings: reader is an amputee (no left arm), implied reader PTSD, dunking eachother's heads in water, forcing reader to go to the beach at the crack of dawn. FLUFF!!! reader chokes on water. might be inaccurate depictions of disability? idk. finnick refers to reader as 'ace'. no use of yn.

a/n: wisp? posting something? incredible! enjoy this one folks

“I'm gonna kill you!” You shout at your lover. And the sun creeping over the horizon.

“I know Ace.” Finnick mutters back in response, tugging you alongside him.

You didn't even have the opportunity to put on your shoes before Finnick had pulled you out of bed and onto the road outside your house in the Victor's Village. An old woman was being helped into her new home by her son. Four's new mayor had decided to use the empty homes in the Village to rehabilitate the disabled and elderly. Looking closer, you see that the man is balancing himself on a pair of crutches, still getting used to the feeling of having one leg. Four faced the least of the Capitol's bombardment because of its less-than-vital role for Capitol citizens during a warzone. Unlike District 12. People in Four at-least had the option to stay, anyone left in Twelve were shipped away to Thirteen. Involuntary tributes but in a different game.

You'd rather not think about District 12, or 13. You drop your hand from Finnick's grasp and gently run your hand down the length of your now amputated arm. What used to be muscle and skin beneath the elbow, now lies an empty space. You wrap your hand around the void that used to be flesh and bone. If you focus hard enough, you can trace the outline of your forearm.

They said it would take two weeks for One to ship out your prosthetic. It's been four weeks. You'd rather live without your left arm at this point.

“It's too early for this!” You shout over the wind.

The sand digs into the soles of your feet, clinging to the gaps between your toes. The sea breeze whistles around your ears with such ferocity that stepping against the current of air requires tremendous effort. Rough, coarse sea glass pokes and prods the skin of your now red feet, and you sneeze as particles of sand meet your nose.

“Bless you.” Finnick looks back to grin at you. A child runs headfirst towards the ocean and is scooped away by his mother just before he meets the water. You smile.

“Whatever.” You dust off the sand gathering on your clothes, and it comes back just as quickly. It's a futile effort. You groan.

You despise the beach. Since you were a kid. You had to learn how to swim in the saltwater lakes of Four rather than the sea like most kids. The one dingy beach that your district had was more of a port now. Cabins stationed by the shore. Wooden docks reaching out over the water. A woman casts a fishnet while her husband makes a fish-hook out of some spare wire. A little girl walks out of a cabin holding a string of seashells. With your next step, a seashell stabs into your foot and you wince.

“Goddamnit!” You groan. Finnick chuckles. You shake your foot off and the seashell is strewn away in the sand once more. You hike up your pants, folding the cuffs to turn them into makeshift shorts as you step closer towards the water. “Why are we here, Finnick?”

“To get you out of your little mood!” Finnick states proudly. Damn him. “I know you're sad about your prosthetic not being here yet,” he continues. You bite the inside of your cheek and ignore the squelching of your feet as you step on wet sand. It clumps between your toes and makes a semi-wet, semi-dry layer of grime on your skin.

“Fuck this, Finnick. Let me go home.” The tide pulls up, water reaching around your ankles now. Is it dramatic to say that you can feel every microscopic grain of salt and sediment grazing your Achilles' Heel?

“Not yet, ace.” Finnick turns around, standing still. The sun has just barely shown its face, forming a half-circle over the horizon.

“What do you want?” The water is freezing cold. A shiver racks through your body as you step forward.

“Nothing, just wanted to spend time with you.”

“So you take me to my least favourite place on Earth?” You chide.

“You know me, ace—” The rest of his speech is garbled. Why? Because your lovely husband has decided to dunk you into the water, making you faceplant on the shallow seabed.

You pull your head out with a gasp. “Finnick!” You yell. He stares at you with a not-at-all guilty expression, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He gently brushes away the tendrils of hair sticking to your forehead, which is all the opportunity you need to tug his entire arm forward. He stumbles and falls, laughing boisterously before his guffaws are silenced beneath the water. He comes up for air before swimming further away from you. You shift to a crouch before diving underwater to swim underneath him, a bit to the left, just out of his blind spot.

You creep your hand around his calf and pull him into the water. You can hear the muddled yelp he makes before getting submerged. Tendrils of seaweed brush your leg and you can't stop yourself from laughing. It's an awful idea to laugh underwater, because you inhale a glass full of saltwater that makes it way right up to the back of your skull, you quickly resurface with a start, flailing for a moment as you cough in an attempt to retch the seawater right out of your esophagus. Finnick resurfaces as well, concern clouding his features.

As you continue to cough and wheeze to no avail, he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest so you don't need to put as much effort into staying upright and afloat. His free hand tentatively hovers in the air as he decides whether you need a Heimlich or not.

Your eyes burn with the sting coursing through your nose and cranium, but eventually the coughing subsides and a dull headache is left behind. You take a deep gulp of fresh air, exhaling once your body is free of the sensory torment it just went through.

“You alright, ace? We can go back if you want.” Finnick asks, the grin on his face was quickly replaced with the same dazed and fearful look he had whenever you even so much as got a cut on your finger.

You shake your head, throwing out a few fake coughs you know he thought would be believable. “Let's go back.” you throw your arm around his neck. He continues supporting you, already fixing his posture to help the both of you swim back.

Before he can start swimming, you pull your head away from his shoulder and drag the both of you down into the sea, a bright smile on your face. Finnick had the mind to gasp for air just before you took him under, otherwise he would've been in the same state as you were. He shoves you off of him and resurfaces.

“Evil, evil woman!” He exclaims, shaking his head to get some of the water out of his hair. “You scared the shit out of me!”

Meanwhile, you can't stop laughing. He pouts and glares at you, splashing some water on your face. “Uhg– hey!” He chuckles, before tackling you and making you dive into the water. You scream before your head goes under and you wrestle out of his grasp so you can swim away. Your speed had been significantly impaired since the loss of your arm, which meant that Finnick caught up to you in less than five seconds. He spun you around and pulled you into a kiss. The two of you resurfaced and broke apart for air. He stuck his tongue out childishly. “Wanna race?”

You grin. “Yeah. Always.” You knew you were going to lose.

Once the two of you swam back to shore, you looked around to see where Finnick was. And when you turned, he was still ways away from you in the water. He let you win.

You smile. And for once, the sand doesn't bother you anymore.

[aseaofstars9]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

My first foray into The Hunger Games fandom for my beloved Odesta! I'm always a little nervous when I enter a new creative space, but here it is!

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Annie Cresta

Rating: T

Word count: 2,482 for chapter 1 (of 2 chapters so far)

Summary: Annie convinces Plutarch to let her join the Star Squad for their assault on the Capitol, much to Finnick’s consternation. And like any good unknown variable, her presence changes everything.

There was something about District Thirteen that could make a cinder block look like a cheerful burst of rainbow by comparison. Everything was grey. Uniform. Perfectly calculated for maximum efficiency and minimum soul – because, really, what room was there for emotion on a quarterly report that marked such ‘frivolous’ endeavors as obsolete?

And yet, Finnick Odair could count every moment he’d felt this overwhelmed on one hand. Rage and love and absolute terror wrestled within him, swirling and merging and detaching again while he tried to hold it together with a practiced smirk and a confident stride was the opposite of how he felt.

The dreary, monochromatic hallways gave rise to a cookie-cutter door, behind which the loveliest, most clever, most infuriating creature he’d ever met was calmly packing for a trip she had no business joining.

“Well, that was clever of you.” Finnick’s arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorway of the apartment he shared with his wife.

His wife.

He still could scarcely believe he could finally call her that, after all the years of hiding – threats and panic for her safety hanging over his head while he forced the bile back down his throat every time to make good on a deal he made with Snow, so that she wouldn’t have to.

Annie startled for only a second, looking up at him with those doe eyes – same lovely green as the rest of their district, marked by the sea – before continuing to fold what looked like standard issue fatigues into a backpack. “You always did say that I’m a clever girl, but I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Using ‘optics’ on Plutarch was definitely inspired.” He finally kicked off the doorway to walk into the room. He raised a hand, as though directing a marquee, his voice theatrically sarcastic. “District Four’s Fragile Victor Healed! Love is Fighting Oppression Together!”

Annie put down the shirt she was folding, and tucked her knees underneath her on the bed, though there was no mistaking the mischievously triumphant upward turn of her lips. She was clearly proud of herself. “I don’t think you have the wording quite right. Mine had a bit more pizzazz.”

“No?” He plucked something from her backpack before she could stop him, but caught the affectionately exasperated look before tossing the object – rolled up socks, maybe – into the air and catching it with all the feigned carelessness he could muster. “Well, then. Illuminate me. What exactly did you say to our fearless propaganda leader?”

Read more on AO3.

[dakotaawolven]

Suddenly there is Everlark and Hayfie all over my dash and now my brain is running so wild.

Now I want to write a time travel fix it(yeah, no surprise there, I know lmao) where a bunch of them wake up in the past and Katniss and Peeta still go into the 74th Games because they know they can make it out. But while they're doing that, everyone else outside with their memories teams up and they manage to kickstart the rebellion early and crash the 74th games instead of the 75th. So a bunch of the District 13 stuff happens wayyyy earlier and it sparks even more chaos and rebellion. Oh, and Rue lives, so does Cinna. And a few others!

[anniecrestalover]

after the war finnick makes all his socials completely about annie and his kids

[hungergamesheadcanons]

If Finnick had survived I genuinely think he and Annie would have had 4 kids, maybe 5 if she was blessed with twins.

If any of y'all have read my fics the firstborn in my head is always called Caspian - a little boy who is the spitting image of Finnick. I headcanon that Caspian is very sensitive and very sweet, especially considering that both Finnick and Annie are very considerate due to their respective traumas. Caspian would be a proper little gentleman.

Their second born would be a little girl in my mind, called Magdalene. In my universe it serves to honour both Mags and Magdalene who was Finnick's tribute partner and saved his life. She'd be the spitting image of Annie, just two lil mini me's. In my head Magdalene would be very artsy and very intelligent, probably very skilled with a paintbrush. She'd love her Uncle Peeta, who teaches her everything she needs to know about art and painting.

Their third born would be another little girl, named Nahla. She'd have Annie's eyes and Finnick's hair, and I reckon she'd be a proper spitfire. Probably learned how to hunt with Auntie Katniss, and then proceeded to bully her dad with Auntie Johanna until he taught her how to spearfish. Also she probably bullies her dad with Auntie Johanna just because it's fun. I could see Nahla always getting in trouble for starting fights at school, but it's almost always in defence of some bullying victim so Finnick and Annie aren't too concerned. A proper scrapper, though. And a bit of a prankster.

If they had twins (which they would be over the moon for, even if they hadn't planned for 5 kids), they'd probably be a little girl and a little boy. They'd be called Tallulah and Nen respectively, Tallulah making it out just before Nen and she'd tease him relentlessly for it. Nen would have Annie's hair, fiery red and straight as a doorknob, while Tallulah would have Finnick's bronze curls. Tallulah would be very attached to Finnick, learning how to weave rope and fish and begging to go on the barges with him to haul fish in, while Nen would be clinging onto Annie, learning how to knit and bake and all sorts. The two of them would also be very attached to Uncle Haymitch and Auntie Effie, listening to tales the two of them tell in front of the fireplace when they visit 12. They even subconsciously emulate them, bickering constantly.

[mzannthropy]

Watching Hunger Games Mockingjay 2, paused to capture Finnick and Annie's wedding. Isn't it sweet that they survived the games and the revolution and got to live happily ever after for years, decades, to come? Doesn't it just tug at your heartstrings when you think about how they both have to live with trauma but they're there for each other, always?