he wasn't much. @wasfromhome - Tumblr Blog

ladymarsstark

#.blight

✘

Send ✘ for an unsent text

[ text ] i miss her. bad isn't it

UNF

If you snuck in my room I would:

[] Go back to sleep

[] Kick you out

[] Cuddle with you

[] Be like wtf?

[] Let you sleepover

[x] Beat your ass

[] Sexy time

If you kissed me I would:

[] Kiss you back

[x] Smile & laugh

[] Be shocked

[] Slap you

You are:

[] Cute

[] Adorable

[x] Pretty

[] Beautiful

[] Okay

[] Sexy

[] Hotass Motherfucker

[] Ew

I Would:

[x] Smash

[] Pass

Send ✉ for an 2 AM text

Send ✘ for an unsent text

Send ☠ for a threatening message

Send ❤ for a lusty/loving/affectionate message

Send ♣ for a drunk message

soldiermxson-deactivated2014071

raging thunder | wasfromhome

soldiermxson-deactivated2014071

The sounds of shock, of horror, of heartbreak, they all swirled together as the room shook around her. She felt like she might throw up or that her legs would collapse beneath her. Her back straightened as she pulled her weight off the table. The rest of the broadcast might as well have ended there, as not a single person in the room was paying any attention. All eyes were on the victors.

Johanna was practically shaking, her fingers balled tightly into fists that came to press hard to her temples. She took a step back, then went left, then back. Someone rushed to comfort her but she shoved them aside. Everything was loud, she could feel her heart pounding against her ribs. She was going back in to the arena. After everything she’d fought through, her family had sacrificed themselves for her, and it was all in vain.

Her shimmering eyes were met with Blight’s, her friend’s.

No.

Further realisation, that not only was she being forced back into the arena, but Blight may have to suffer the same fate, may even die, while his unborn child grows inside his beloved.

No.

She exploded, snatched an ornament off the table and fired it at the screen. She was screaming in hysterics, cursing ans swearing with words incomprehensible and she was crying, unable to contain the burning rage. It was too hot to extinguish.

wasfromhome

He didn't even care right now. Johanna was a friend, an idea of his trials as a mentor. She was the surviving one -- the one that his mentorship had kept alive. Turning on his feet, Blight moved to where Johanna was, grabbing her shoulders and giving them a soft shake. It was ludacris, yes. They should've had complete solice from ever going back in the arena again, but he had to think. There was still the chance that he wasn't going back in, and he had to hope and pray that he wasn't.

"Everyone out. Victors stay."

He didn't even bother processing what had been said. He knew he had to stay, but work was needed to be done. "Johanna listen to me." He had been the one that had had to stay strong during the 71st, he was the one that had to stay strong with his tributes "-- You can make it out alive. You've done it before." With his help, and if he had to, he'd mentor again. He'd make sure that she got out alive. A lost gaze seemed to come across his wife, who was still shaking as she left the building.

His child wasn't going to have a father.

He wouldn't make it out alive if he went back in. He knew it.

"What the hell is going on, huh?" Blight suddenly exploaded, his fists clenching beside his legs "Come on guys you know this isn't what was in there. It's absolute fucking bullshit."

He can't have been the only one that thought it.

mashamorevna

They can’t hurt me. I’m not like the rest of you. There’s no one left I love.

It's days like this, where I don't miss TWD RP community.

#ooc #R rambles

Christmas Wishlist.

I wanna do somethings on the Run up to Christmas -- just to get myself pumped, so here's a list. Idek to be honest, a lot of it is cracky as fuck

Christmas in District 7.

Quell Blight. What he was like in the arena for example.

Mentor!Blight.

Bro-downing with the other mentors.

Younger!Blight.

Decorating trees in District 7.

Mockingjay Blight.

I have the mASSIVE urge for a teacher AU. Don't mind me.

#ooc #wishlist

soldiermxson-deactivated2014071

raging thunder | wasfromhome

The announcement was being projected over half the wall, President Snow’s face towering over every viewer in the room. There was a small handful, friends of hers who were avid viewers every year, they weren’t invited, but she didn’t refuse them either. The lights were set down low, as if it was a movie theatre and they were about to watch a dramatic romance film. The room was practically vibrating with anticipation.

She stood at the back of the room, her arms hunched over and resting on the table. She wasn’t nearly as engrossed in the announcement as the rest of them, she was better entertained at the birds outside the window, perched on a tree branch. There was talk of the Quarter Quell, and how it was going to break the chain of the previous games, how it was going to transform and define Panem for years to come. Bullshit, she thought.

The audience in front of the screen fell silent so suddenly, and it broke her from her distance and her eyes drifted over to look at Snow, so proud where he stood, so powerful.

”And now we honour our third Quarter Quell, on the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of them Capitol,” this was it, this was the big change and even she was lost in the build-up, what was to come she had no idea, “the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.”

S i l e n c e .

wasfromhome

A strangled sob was the only thing that Blight heard. His wife, so frail and so pained squeezed at his hand, and maybe he would've reacted differently if she wasn't there, but the Victor stood, practically taking in the situation that was in front of him. There was a risk that he was going back into the arena, a risk that he wouldn't see his wife, or see the birth of the child that was in her stomach. "Bullshit." It was loud enough for the others to hear, and parting his hand, Blight pulled a hand through his hair

It wasn't half as bad as when he caught Johanna's gaze. She was the only surviving female victor, she knew there was a chance that her fate would be sealed with a dash of blood, and Blight couldn't help but feel guilty over it. She still had the chance to have a wonderful life, forget the games and live on, but he on the other hand didn't. It was ridiculous "In no way was that what was in that envelope." Eyes seemed to be on him.

It couldn't be. After the riots, and things that had happened in other districts, it just seemed too perfect. It was a perfect way to get rid of the people that held hope in the districts.

Blight was livid, and although he wouldn't show it, the expression could be seen across his face. It was too perfect to be what was pushed into that envelope all those years ago. His hand was tugged on, and as he tugged his hand out of the grip of his wife, Blight turned, leaning the room too slow for his own liking. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Once you won the Hunger Games, your life was supposed to be perfect.

Yet {everything} seemed to be going wrong

mechanicalhart

and i’m l o n e l y; there, i said it i’m lonely but it’s { hard to admit it } when everybody thinks that you’re fine all the time and you’re not

bedstuychk-deactivated20150416

It’s that time of night, kiddos. Jon & I are splitting a bottle of Rioja and then we’re turning in. Love snuggling with a man who looks like he can hold his own in a bar fight but isn’t afraid to ask a sommelier to recommend a good white for his fish entree. G’night, y’all.

#.blight