#Mockingjay Part Two

[tashs-stories]

District Baby In The Capitol🔱🩵

Finnick Odair × Fem!OC

Finnick Odair, the Capitol darling, was a name whispered on every lip and adored by countless hearts. To the outside world, he was a vision of charm and allure, a man who had captivated the Capitol with his striking features, effortless charisma, and tragic allure. But behind the carefully constructed facade of his life, there was a secret he guarded fiercely: he was a father.

His daughter, Briar-Sea Odair, was his anchor to a world far removed from the glitz and cruelty of the Capitol. Just two years old, she was a beacon of purity and light in Finnick’s otherwise tumultuous life. She had her mother's crystal blue eyes, framed by lashes so long they looked like they’d been painted on, and a crown of golden blonde hair that shimmered like sunlight. Every time Finnick looked at her, he felt an ache—equal parts joy and sorrow—because he knew his time with her was fleeting.

Her mother, Pearl, had been a Capitol girl born into privilege. Their story wasn’t the fairy tale it appeared to be on the surface. Pearl had once been indifferent to Finnick, seeing him as just another pawn in the games her father played. She was beautiful, sharp-tongued, and stubborn, never one to fall for Finnick’s Capitol persona. But her father, a wealthy Capitol businessman, had paid for Finnick’s company more than once. What started as cold and transactional grew into something warm and undeniable.

Finnick had fallen for her because she was different—someone who saw the cracks in his armor and never looked away. And Pearl, in time, fell for the man beneath the mask: the kind, fiercely protective soul hidden behind the Capitol darling’s smile.

At just 22, Pearl discovered she was pregnant with Briar-Sea. Finnick was overjoyed and terrified. He vowed to protect them, but life in the Capitol was a cage with gilded bars, and Finnick was bound by invisible chains.

---

When Finnick could visit them, those stolen moments felt like a dream. He would cradle Briar-Sea in his arms, pressing soft kisses to her tiny forehead, and whisper, “My little sea star, Daddy loves you so much.” Her giggles were his favorite melody, and every touch, every laugh felt like a lifeline.

Pearl would sit nearby, watching the two of them, her heart torn in two. She loved Finnick and saw how much he adored their daughter, but she also saw the weight he carried—the Capitol’s demands, the fear of exposure, and the pain of being unable to protect the people he loved most.

“Finnick,” Pearl said one evening as Briar-Sea dozed in his arms. They were sitting on her couch in her luxurious Capitol apartment. “We need to talk about the Quell.”

He stiffened, his smile fading as he gazed down at his sleeping daughter. “Not tonight, Pearl,” he whispered.

“Finn,” her voice broke, and he looked up at her. Tears glistened in her blue eyes. “You can’t pretend it isn’t happening. They’re sending you back.”

“I know,” he said hoarsely, his grip on Briar-Sea tightening. “But I can’t—” His voice cracked, and he closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry.

Pearl reached out and cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. “Then we make the most of the time we have,” she said firmly. “I don’t care how much it costs. I’ll pay for you to be here every moment you can. You’re her father, Finnick. She needs you. I need you.”

---

Over the next few weeks, Pearl made good on her promise. She spent a fortune ensuring Finnick could spend as much time with them as possible. Those weeks were a blur of stolen happiness and unbearable heartbreak.

Finnick would wake up to the sound of Briar-Sea’s laughter as she toddled around the apartment, her tiny feet pattering against the marble floors. He’d chase her around, scooping her up and spinning her in the air as she squealed with delight.

“Again, Daddy!” she’d cry, her crystal blue eyes sparkling with joy.

And he would, over and over, because he wanted to memorize her laugh, her smile, the way she felt in his arms.

At night, he and Pearl would sit on the balcony, watching the city lights twinkle below them.

“Do you think she’ll remember me?” Finnick asked one night, his voice barely above a whisper.

Pearl’s breath hitched, and she reached for his hand. “Of course she will,” she said, her voice trembling. “We’ll talk about you every day. I’ll show her the shells you brought her, the stories you told. She’ll know who her father is.”

Finnick nodded, but the doubt lingered. He didn’t trust the Capitol to let him come back, and the thought of Briar-Sea growing up without him was a pain he couldn’t bear.

---

The day he was to leave for the Quarter Quell arrived too soon. Finnick knelt in front of Briar-Sea, who clung to her favorite seashell, a gift from him.

“Be good for Mommy, okay, sea star?” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Briar-Sea nodded solemnly, not fully understanding what was happening. “When you come back, can we go to the beach?” she asked.

Finnick’s heart broke. He forced a smile and kissed her forehead. “Of course we can,” he whispered, even though he didn’t believe it.

Pearl stood behind him, tears streaming down her face. Finnick pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair. “I love you,” he murmured. “Take care of her. Take care of yourself.”

“I love you, too,” she choked out. “Come back to us, Finnick. Please.”

He pulled back, his green eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’ll try,” he said, his voice shaking. Then he kissed her, pouring all his love and desperation into that single moment before he turned and walked away.

---

As the hovercraft took him back to the arena, Finnick sat silently, clutching a small trinket—a tiny shell necklace Briar-Sea had made with Pearl’s help. It was his anchor, his reminder of what he was fighting for.

Back in the Capitol, Pearl held Briar-Sea close, whispering stories about her father. She promised herself she would keep his memory alive for their daughter, no matter what the future held.

Finnick Odair, the Capitol darling, was more than just a survivor or a symbol. He was a father, a lover, and a man who carried the weight of a world that never truly understood him. And as he stepped into the horrors of the arena once more, his heart remained with the two girls who were his entire world.

I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did please react in anyway.

🌊🔱

[iamnotathornbird]

https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/hurry-netflix-losing-iconic-jennifer-170002023.html

my first thought was, "omg, i need to go rewatch THG before it's gone," quickly followed by remembering it's a moot point because i don't have access to a netflix account anymore. oh well lol 🙂🙃🙂

[incarnateangelique]

A weirdly popular trope is the ‘I lost the baddest bitch and now I am a dictator’

To be fair if I fumbled Rachel Ziegler , Natalie Portman and the Zendaya Coleman I would crash out

[saveahorserideaneddie]

“you love me. real or not real?”

“real”

[booktomoviebrawl]

Book to movie brawlers how do we feel about the Hunger Games movies?

[slayingqueenchal]

My dear | finnick odair x f!reader

Summary : youre one of the district 12 survivors among peeta and katniss, and haymitch told you to make allies, but you didnt get what he meant.

Making this a series!

part 1 part 2

"Hi" You said quietly. "Hi" The guy said louder, and more confident. "Make allies, you'll need them" Haymitch told the three of you. "Alright" You answered.

But you don't quite understand. "Uhm, i-i I uh, haymitch told me to make allies uhm, and i? I uh" Your voice was high pitched and very small, but, to his eyes you were adorable.

"You wanna be allies with me, is that what you're trying to say? " He laughed, walking closer to you. "Yes, that's what Im trying to say, or, wait, yeah" You smiled.

"Oh,dear,If you were not as adorable as you are, I would say no, but, considering you are, I'd say, we're now allies" He said, walking away, making you feel.. Off?

[aew-regression-cove]

THIS MOVIE HAS JUST STARTED AND IM ALREADY TEARING UP-

[septembermonologues]

i'm impervious to all the emotional posts about bell's hells today because i am simply choosing to not let the campaign end in my mind <3 you're talking to the person who faithfully and delusionally waited for dorian to come back for over two years and game planned a new way he could show up every single week so this is not goodbye, actually, because i say so

[tls123]

top first watches of 2023 — tagged by @sensazioneultra (thank you nico ily baci baci 🧡🎥)

i only watched forty-two movies last year and ten-ish of those were re-watches, so there's not a lot to pick from for my top watches. that being said these are what i enjoyed the most, for one reason or another

i'm definitely going to try and get back into movies this year because i miss them and my watchlist keeps getting bigger and bigger <3

in no particular order:

call me chihiro / bottoms / polite society

they cloned tyrone / ballerina / mockingjay part 2

not tagging anyone, but if you'd like to do this and haven't been tagged yet then i'm tagging you

[ankle-beez]

HUNGRY ENDEAVORS RANKING ⬇️

[tashs-stories]

Fire Girl and Water Boy 🌊🔱

Blair was a broken girl, but the Capitol loved her. They adored her like some flawless porcelain doll, trapped in the gleam of their glittering, cruel world. The gleam that did nothing to hide the cracks beneath. She was their star—a young woman who could set others on fire, both in the arena and in the minds of Capitol citizens who devoured her every move with ravenous hunger. But while they cheered for her, she was drowning.

The night before the Games began, Blair had stared at herself in the reflection of the silver-plated mirror in her prep room, her eyes hollow. All she could hear was the sound of screams. The deafening screams that echoed through her head—of those she had killed, of those she had watched burn, of herself. The flames that had consumed the other tributes that had turned them into nothing but ash were nothing compared to the fire she carried in her chest. The memory of each face twisted in agony, their cries still seared into her mind, played over and over again. The Capitol loved her for it, but she hated herself.

She could barely hold it together anymore. There were moments when she couldn’t even remember who she was before the Games, before the arena. It felt like someone had carved her soul out, and what remained was just a shell, trembling and trying desperately to keep it all intact. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw the flames again, and with them, the pain—the pain of others and the pain of herself.

It was Finnick Odair who made it quiet. Finnick, the boy who had been forced to grow up too fast in the Capitol’s blood-soaked spotlight, a winner at fourteen, a child of the water, with eyes that had seen too much. He was a reflection of her—broken, yet shining under the Capitol's unrelenting gaze, a symbol of the Capitol’s twisted love.

But there was something about Finnick. Something that felt like a lifeline, even if they were both drowning. He didn’t tell her that she could heal, didn’t try to fix her—because he knew better than anyone that some scars ran too deep. Instead, he held her when she broke. When her fingers trembled as she gripped the edge of the bathroom sink, her body shaking violently as the memories overwhelmed her, Finnick was the one who held her, his strong arms wrapping around her until the tremors finally subsided.

“Breathe, Blair,” he whispered in her ear, his voice low, soothing, the only thing that ever made the world feel still for just a moment. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

She leaned into him, her hands clutching his shirt so tightly it hurt. The scent of saltwater, of sea and memories long buried, surrounded her, pulling her into the calm of a storm she could never escape. His heart beat beneath her ear, steady and strong, like a pulse that reminded her she was still alive, that she could still fight.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, barely able to breathe through the weight in her chest. “I can’t… it’s too much. I hear them, Finnick… I hear the screams, and I can’t stop them.”

Finnick didn’t respond at first. He just held her tighter, his own breath ragged, as if he too was struggling to keep the pieces of himself together. He knew those screams. He had them, too. They never left, not after the arena, not after the Capitol had thrown him into the Games, again and again, each time expecting him to come out unscathed. He had been their golden boy, their darling, but he had lost so much in the process. His innocence, his soul, his peace—gone in the same way they had taken Blair’s.

“I know,” Finnick finally murmured. “I hear them, too. But we’ll survive this. Together. You’re not alone, Blair.”

She lifted her head, her tear-streaked face meeting his. His eyes, though haunted, were unwavering, like the ocean that could drown her but also save her. She was falling, but somehow, with him, she wasn’t alone. Not completely.

“I can’t be like this forever,” Blair said softly, her voice shaky, the rawness of her trauma spilling over the cracks in her facade. “I’m falling apart. I don’t know how much longer I can pretend.”

Finnick gently cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down her cheek. His gaze softened, his own pain written in the lines of his face, but there was something resolute in him now. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Blair. You don’t have to hold it together. I’ll hold you together when you can’t.”

She closed her eyes, trying to steady herself, but it felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on her, like the darkness was swallowing her whole. The fire, the pain, the loss—it all felt too much to bear. But with Finnick’s steady presence, she found the smallest glimmer of something she thought was long lost: hope.

They didn’t talk about the Games, or the Capitol, or even the screams. They didn’t need to. The silence between them spoke more than words ever could, because in that silence, they understood. They understood that they both wore the scars of survival. That they were both broken, both pieces of a puzzle that would never quite fit, but somehow, together, they worked.

“Promise me you’ll never leave me,” Blair whispered, her voice fragile as a piece of glass.

Finnick’s lips twitched, a hint of a smile in the depths of his grief. “I’ll never leave you, Blair. Not now. Not ever.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Blair believed him. Even if just for a fleeting moment. Even if the world outside was dark, and their nightmares were waiting to claim them again. She could hold onto this. She could hold onto him. Together, they were still alive. Together, they could keep the noise at bay.

At least for now.

While they had the chance to be together openly and completely, they did everything they could to make the most of the time they had. In the quiet hours between the chaos, the Capitol’s glittering walls fading into the background, they became two broken souls trying to piece themselves together in the only way they knew how—through each other.

The quill—the weapon they had been branded with since they entered the arena, the symbol of the Capitol’s hold over them—was always there, lurking. But in moments like these, they could push it aside, if only for a short while. There was no arena here. No Capitol cameras. No screams. Just them, lost in a world that was small and fragile, but still real.

They found solace in the simplest things. A walk in the gardens behind the Capitol mansion, where the scent of flowers that didn’t belong in their world wrapped around them like a brief reprieve. They didn’t need to speak to each other—words were too heavy, too full of things they couldn’t say. They simply walked, side by side, hands brushing in the humid air, the silence speaking louder than anything else.

Blair often found herself staring at the ground, trying to focus on the small, familiar rhythm of each step, each breath. But Finnick always seemed to know when she was struggling to hold herself together. When the air became thick with unspoken fears, he would nudge her with his elbow, a small, playful gesture to remind her of the world outside their trauma.

“Race you to the end,” Finnick said one day, a rare flash of mischief in his eyes, as he broke into a jog. “Last one there has to cook dinner.”

Blair's heart stuttered in her chest, her muscles frozen for a split second as she watched him, his long legs carrying him effortlessly down the path. For just a moment, she was caught in the illusion of normalcy—the illusion that she wasn’t a weapon, that she wasn’t broken.

Without thinking, her feet followed his, the ground beneath her soft and welcoming. She ran after him, laughing, not the hollow laugh that echoed in the dark corners of her mind, but a real one. A fleeting moment of lightness. She could hear Finnick’s laughter, too, his voice warm and deep, pulling her out of the darkness, pulling her into something that resembled joy.

When they reached the end, both out of breath, Finnick threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him as they both collapsed onto the soft grass. Their laughter continued, but it faded into something quieter, more vulnerable, as they lay there, staring at the sky. It was a luxury they didn’t have often—just being. No games. No expectations. Just Finnick and Blair, stripped of their Capitol personas, just two people in a fleeting moment that felt as fragile as the stars above them.

Blair’s chest tightened when she glanced over at him, her thoughts turning to the inevitable. The Games. The Capitol. The quill. But when Finnick caught her gaze, his hand found hers, squeezing it tightly. The unspoken truth between them was always there—their shared trauma, the weight of survival, the past that neither could outrun—but they didn’t have to talk about it. Not then.

“You’re not alone,” Finnick whispered softly, his breath warm against her ear. “Not anymore. I promise."

Her eyes closed, the weight of his words sinking deep into her heart. She could feel the storm inside her, the trembling inside her chest, but his presence soothed her, even if just for that moment. The quill was still there, always in the back of her mind, but with him beside her, she could breathe. She could exist.

They spent their days this way—no longer hiding their connection, no longer pretending to be something they weren’t. The Capitol may have thought they were playing a game, that their lives were just another show to be broadcast, but Blair and Finnick knew the truth. Their connection wasn’t a game; it was the only thing keeping them from falling apart completely.

Some days they would just sit together, wrapped in silence, their heads leaning against one another as they stared out at the city beyond. The Capitol buzzed around them, but for once, it felt distant. It was just the two of them, lost in their shared grief, but also in the shared moments of something beautiful that they didn’t have to explain to anyone.

Other days, they’d venture into the Capitol, where no one knew the weight they carried. They’d stroll through grand halls and busy streets, lost among the Capitol’s towering buildings and loud chatter, but they weren’t lost in each other.

They had each other—broken, scarred, but alive. Alive in a way that made the days feel like something more than just survival. They held each other together, making the most of these stolen moments. Because in a world so consumed with bloodshed and spectacle, their love was the only thing that had the power to heal them, to quiet the noise. Even if it was just for a few hours.

And maybe that was all they needed. Even with the Games ahead. Even with the quill hanging over them. For a while, they could forget about it all and just be Finnick and Blair—the boy who had been broken and rebuilt, and the girl who set fire to the arena. Together, they were something more than what the Capitol had made them. Something more than weapons, more than tributes. They were alive in each other. And for that brief, fleeting time, that was enough.

Finnick won the poll so here is the story as promised.

Thank you to everyone that voted and I hope you enjoy so if you do give a like and who know if you like the rest of my work give me a follow.

[rye-views]

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 2 (2015) dir. Francis Lawrence. 7.4/10

I would not recommend this movie to my friends. I would not rewatch this movie.

Every kiss between Gale and Katniss is so forced.

What even is that black ooze? These booby traps are so high tech crazy.

Finnick, nooo. Primrose, noo.

This movie was way better than part one.

Katniss, leave the cat alone!

Katniss's baby looking real Asian.

[thosesadsuburbanghosts]

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part Two (2015)

"Real or not real?"

[staronet]

I forgot how much Finks death absolutely kills me. I'm sobbing and the fact that he was so close to being out, he about had his own version of the happy ending that Katniss got. Married, kids, carving out a piece of the world for their own. I fucking can't.

I see why it happened but God dammit I hate my. 😭

[afairywithacrown]

im crying

[fromevertonow]

Suzanne Collins is one of the few contemporary writers who realizes the importance of names in her stories and the significance they bear. They add so many layers to the story, additional meanings that otherwise would not have existed.

The original trilogy:

Katniss: named after a plant of which you can eat the roots. Her father taught her where to find it and told her that “as long as you can find yourself, you’ll survive” (quote may be a little bit off, but it’s from one of the early chapters in THG). Additionally, the leaves are in the shape of an arrowhead, referencing her skills with the bow which her father also taught her how to use.

Peeta: literally bread lmao. But bread is one of the basic nutritions humans need, a little bit goes a long way to keep you alive. Peeta’s presence in Katniss’s life also kept her alive, literally and figuratively—the burned bread he threw her in the flashback and their complicated relationship.

Primrose: a plant with medicinal purposes, even more significant in light of her work as a medic in Mockingjay.

Gale: literally means “strong wind” and considering that in every encounter with Katniss he’s caused some reaction, he pulls her into directions she maybe initially doesn’t want to go in. Additionally, his name also represents his determination and steadfastness in his beliefs.

TBOSAS

Lucy Gray: named after William Wordsworth’s poem “Lucy Gray” which is about the titular character of the poem who got lost during a blizzard. She literally got lost in snow. Rachel Zegler sang this poem in two parts on the original soundtrack of the movie. When Snow asked who the girl in the song is, Lucy answers that she’s a mystery, just like her.

Snow: aside from the obvious snow references, I think his name is most significant in relation to Lucy and the poem. The only one who knows what caused her disappearance is Snow. He is the reason that Lucy is gone. But her traces in the snow are still visible. He will always remember her because the memory of Lucy has manifested itself in every part of his life.

Coriolanus: named after the Roman general (and also the titular character of Shakespeare’s play), Coriolanus wanted to attack Rome and become its ruler. He was scorned and celebrated by the people, only to be later exiled from the city by them. In TBOSAS, Coriolanus is the star pupil at the Capitol’s academy but sent into exile to the districts after he won the Games with Lucy through cheating.

Volumnia: Coriolanus mother who played a part in his ascent to power. In TBOSAS, she almost serves like a mentor to Coriolanus, teaching him how to think in terms of power.

(Edit) Sejanus: a roman soldier who was betrayed by the roman emperor Tiberius, just like the future president betrayed him.

(Edit) Plinth: got this info from here, but it was too good not to include here. A plinth is a base for a statue or vase to stand on. After Sejanus’s death, all of the Plinth fortune was given to Snow for being such a good to friend him. It was this money that skyrocketed the Snow family from poverty to filthy rich. The Plinth money was the foundation upon which Snow built his power.

There are so many other names that have historical (mostly Roman and Greek) connotations—Plutarch, Seneca, Cinna—but also regular names like Trinket and Beetee bear meanings that represent the character beautifully.

Names are important. For any lover of literature or (aspiring) writers, please look closely at them. They can shape your story into something unique.

Feel free to correct me if I’ve said something wrong. I know there are many names missing, but I can only add so many examples ✊🏻😔