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mask131 · 6 months

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November is usually my Shining month, and so I want to bring forward again something I have been repeating for a long time now but that I don't see being picked up a lot by people. A detail that is well-hidden inside the Doctor Sleep movie, but that makes the piece even more infinitely appreciable and shows it was made by true Shining fans.

And this detail is... the ghosts of the Overlook Hotel.

Now, when this bunch appeared during the final scene some familiar faces could be spotted. Grady of course, the Injured Guest from the "Great party, isn't it?" scene, the Twins, and of course the Woman of Room 217 -sorry, 237. But there are other faces there - seemingly random people in fancy outfit just for the sake of it. People were confused as to who these people were...

But all you have to do is look at the end credits. And you have a big surprise.

The familiar faces are confirmed to be the ghosts we always thought we were, or to correspond to famous ghosts of the original novel. The twins are confirmed as Grady's two daughters, while the woman in the white dress (not on the picture above but you can her in the scene) is Mrs. Grady. Meaning we have the whole Grady family as ghosts. The woman of room 237 is confirmed to be indeed Mrs. Massey, just like in the book ; as for the Injured Guest (only referred to as "injured guest" in the original scripts of The Shining), the sequel decided to make him Horace Derwent. Meaning he likely can switch between a young/attractive and older/more gruesome form, just like Massey's ghost, since in the original movie Derwent was clearly seen though not named in the scene with the man wearing a dog-bear-like costume (the script confirms it is supposed to be a dog costume though).

Alright, but what of the others? Now this is where things get interesting! The bald man to the right of Grady? That's Vito the Chopper. Yes, the Vito the Chopper from the novel by King, the mafia boss who got his head blown off in the Presidential Suite - as for the two men near him, they are his two bodyguards, Victor T. Boorman and Roger Macassi. Also from the book. These three characters are actually an Easter egg for those who read the book (and we know from the original treatment of Kubrick's movie that the criminal paradise-era of the Overlook and the murders at the Presidential Suite were originally supposed to play a big role in the cinema version of the story too).

But things get even better with the last ghost of the group. He doesn't appear in the picture above either, like Mrs. Grady, but you can notice him during the scene, a large man right behind Mrs. Grady when the ghosts first appear (he is played by Marc Farley). And the ghost's name, as revealed in the credits is... James Parris.

Now, fans of the novel might wonder "Wait... Who's that? I don't recall reading about him". And indeed, you did not! At least if you just read the regular version of the novel! James Parris is however a true character of the Shining, a true victim of the Overlook Hotel, a character written about and invented by Stephen King... But he is part of the deleted prologue of the novel, "Before the Play". You know this prologue that was not part of the published novel but was released in various TV magazines several times, and then finally re-added to the main novel in the collector Cemetery Dance edition of "The Shining"? You must have heard of it - even before the Cemetery Dance release the prologue was going around the Internet, published on small fan websites and discreet literature blogs...

And James Parris was, according to the first part of this prologue (detailling the building and creation of the Overlook... and its first victims) the second owner of the Overlook Hotel. A man that was touched by the same obsession and madness for the hotel that had overtaken Watson's grandfather (the actual builder and first owner of the Hotel), and, if I recall well, ended up dying of a heart attack on the hotel's garden-grounds (near the topiary beasts if I recall well, but I am not too sure, I haven't read the prologue in a while).

So all of that to say - not only did they bother placing an Easter Egg for the fans of King who had read the original book ; but they also placed an Easter Egg for those that knew of or had read the Before the Play prologue, which most regular fans of the novel never even heard about! If this isn't commitment to researching your source material, I don't know what is!

#the shining #shining #doctor sleep #overlook hotel #ghosts #stephen king #stanley kubrick #kubrick's the shining #king's the shining #references #before the play

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random-brushstrokes · 2 months

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Victor Popkov - The Builders Of Bratsk (1961)

#Victor Popkov #soviet art #1960s

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adsosfraser · 8 months

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always

everlark; post mockingjay; jealous katniss

The roof is leaking.

The tin bucket rings with the tap tap tap of the evenly spaced droplets.

The deluge of rain hit hard last night and it has me humming happily, excitement in my chest.

I’ve always loved thunder. The way it rolls deep within my chest and echoes in the deep old bones of the mountains around us. I would squeal with each clap and reach up to catch it in our Seam home as my daddy smiled from his chipped armchair. We’d play a game of hopping from spot to spot on the floor at each rumble and though his eyes hung in deep dark circles from his shifts in the mines, my father never tired. Then, Prim was born and she was terrified of thunderstorms for a time.

It’s just one leak in our shiny and spiffy Capitol made home that’s been standing for almost a century now though. Thom and his builders have much more important things on their minds than a tiny leak in our roof.

Some people still don’t even have roofs. The make-shift canvas of the sturdy tents lining the district hardly constitute roofs.

When the war began, the Capitol wasn’t quite as invested in the architecture in their dear sweet Victors’ homes. They couldn’t keep up their perfect veneer in District 12 when they obliterated it into the ground. The poor things.

And besides, a little water didn’t hurt that much. In my father’s home, we had at least ten designated containers to catch the drip of rainfall.

When I step outside into the morning, the sun is bright and clear in the sky. No trace of the ominous grey and green puffs above remains. The grass is wet and smells of rain. A small trickle of a stream has formed on the gravelly road, opposite our home. At least the geese have been subdued into some semblance of peace because of the storm.

Peeta had left this morning before the sun even stretched out into the sky. Usually I would already be out in the woods too, or by his side watching him knead dough or wipe sweat off his brow.

But, I couldn’t settle last night. Even in Peeta’s arms I was restless. And when my eyes finally drooped shut, a nightmare had found me. The giant crash of thunder that split the sky in two in the middle of the night woke me up. In my dreams all I heard were bombs and gunfire. It had reminded me of-

Peeta let me rest in this morning when he heard my grumpy grunt as I shoved my face under the pillows to hide from the sunlight. Not that he let me do anything. But he had gently tucked me back in and left a muffin on my nightstand for when I was ready.

Part of me wanted to pull him back in by the shirt of his buttoned collar and waste away the day. But even my arms wouldn’t listen to my demands. The bed was so nice and I fell deep into the mattress covered in one of the sheets as Peeta left the fan to run for me. The cinnamon and dill buried deep within the fabric of his side made me feel like I was rocking on a boat, in a lake with gentle rolling waves in my head.

Besides, we haven't even kissed since he returned to me almost four months ago. At first the chaos of finishing the important parts of the bakery and going through the final touches to get it up and running had us distracted. Now I’m not so sure he wants to kiss me.

I kick the loose rocks littering my path to the bakery. They skip and hop and fling themselves in the air. One hits another rock and angles itself to launch at someone passing me clear across the street but their back is turned and they don’t even feel it ping off the heel of their boot. I mumble an apology to myself though, and feel the heat of shame caving in on me from every inch of air around me.

Before I know it, I’m in front of the bakery. It was one of the first buildings up in Twelve. Everytime I see it my heart swells with pride for Peeta. Even though it’s just the bare bones now, I can see its future clear across every brick. The sign hangs proudly over the front. The ‘s’ in Mellark’s is slightly crooked and splotchy because of my shaky hands, but when Peeta began painting it with such excited and reverent hands, he insisted I contribute to at least one part of it.

Normally, I never enter through the front door of the bakery. The back door has always been home to me in a way. The first time I ever came to the back doorstep, I was sitting tall on my father’s shoulders and happily babbling along to a tune he was singing. He and Mr. Mellark quickly exchanged two squirrels with a respectful nod and I mimicked them which put the trace of a laugh onto the baker’s weathered face.

Now, I want to surprise Peeta as one of his customers. The bell of the door jingles as I walk through the door. No one mans the front counter so he must be in the back.

“I’ll be with you shortly.”

His voice carries through the opening to the room with the ovens and prep tables and my shoulders relax at his calm but steady voice. The way the bakery was built and rebuilt, it’s easy for him to call out to customers without having to yell. My lip twitches up into a soft smile and I pull out one of the chairs dotting the tables around the room.

His clomping footsteps and another ring of the bell clash together in my mind. I look up to see the new customer, expecting someone from Thom’s crew but I instantly tense up at the sight.

Her hair is coiled perfectly into ringlets around her face and a big fur coat rests on her shoulders. Her chest is unnaturally large and her bottom even more so. But she’s perfect, right down to her nails. Not a blemish in sight and her blonde hair shines with health and lustre.

She’s big and pretty.

“Artementia!”

Peeta’s shout pulls me from my scrutiny of the clearly Capitol woman. His steps are quick as he approaches her and wipes the flour off of his hands onto his apron.

My head jerks back when he reaches for her across the counter and they embrace. His smile is brilliant and he doesn’t even notice me lurking in the corner.

“Oh my dear.” They pull back from their hug and that woman kisses both of his cheeks, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. “It’s been far too long.”

“It really has Artie.” He squeezes her hand. “How have things been for you?”

“Well why don’t we go and have lunch together? I’m sure you’ll be having your break soon anyway.”

“It’s just me today, I’m not sure I can just close up shop for my lunch break.”

“They can survive without you for an hour I’m sure. Just flip your little sign over and we can go to the opening of that restaurant down the street.”

Peeta’s head turns to the back, searching a long moment for something. When he turns around, it seems he’s already made up his mind. He lets out a sigh before plastering his smile back on for the woman.

“Well alright,” His hands work swiftly to unknot the apron around his waist and place it on the counter. “Sure wouldn’t want anyone else to give you the grand tour of our pristine district.”

She places a hand over her chest and lets out a soft laugh and Peeta’s chest rumbles with a short chuckle.

They walk over to the door, not even glancing my way as Peeta flips the sign on the door over to ‘closed’ and locks the door. Before the door smacks shut behind them, I shove it open and storm past them in the opposite direction. To the woods.

The rock in my hand scatters to the ground.

It was pretty and I thought Peeta would’ve enjoyed its smooth surface and swirling brown rings.

But maybe now it’s not enough to preoccupy his mind with the pretty blood and flesh woman beside him.

His head whips back to the loud sound of the slamming door and ping of the rock and I quickly turn my face away from his line of vision.

“Katniss?” His hopeful voice calls out. But I’m already pushing to round the corner of the rebuilt merchant businesses. “Katniss!”

He can have fun with his gorgeous Capitol woman on his arm. I don’t care.

I save the grumbling for later though, my mind focuses on the ground below me as my legs carry me in a spring towards the fence. I duck under my spot in the chain-link and snatch up my bow and arrows.

After the fifth poor squirrel participates in my very important exercise of letting my feeling’s flow for the day, I climb up a strong and tall tree. I lean into the familiarity of pulling myself up its sprawling branches and swinging my body up and up. Reaching for the sky just as its leaves are.

Have I really lost my dandelion in the spring already?

Did the hungry storms of last night, and the contrast of the harsh summer sun this morning already wilt it?

He so easily welcomed that woman’s touch. Someone from the Capitol no less. And he’s barely touched me in months. Save our desperate grip on each other as the terrors of the night take over.

I will not be sharing a town with the woman Peeta so readily shares himself with.

Instead of rough bark behind my back, I feel the hard arm of a rocking chair digging into my spine. The room is cosy and safe, like Peeta. I feel the sway of my body with the branches of the tree and hug my knees tight to my chest.

“This baby takes nothing from you Kitty, my heart just has to grow some more. Like my tummy. That’s all.”

I relax into her arms, feeling the steady beat of her heart where my head lays. Her stomach is fat, nice and cushy. As fat as anyone in the Seam could ever get. She smells pretty. Like the dirt and plants Daddy lets me dig my grubby little fingers into. I feel the song rattle through my chest as she hums to me. My head gets droopy and I curl further into her. Her hands run through my hair and as she rocks our bodies together on the chair, my head clouds with dreams that I can’t touch yet. But I know they’re there. Happy and warm.

“I’ll always be right here with you baby.”

Shivering in the downpour I’ve been caught in, I hum the same tune she soothed me to. Without thinking, my body rocks back and forth on the soaked moss and lichen on the limb closest to the ground. If I let my hand hang limp from my side I could probably brush the tops of the chives sticking out near the base with my fingertips. I don’t remember my journey down from the top of the tree, but it must’ve happened somehow.

I could be crying. I don’t know. The fat raindrops on my face disguise any that may come.

But it would be hard to disguise the snot squirming its way out of me. I rub my bare forearm under my nose.

I do what I do best.

I run. I hide away. And I sulk.

It doesn’t matter.

They all leave.

Even if they don’t want to, they always do. My father and Prim's choice was made for them. I don’t know what’s worse. To have Peeta’s choice made for him or for him to actively choose that I no longer fit into his life.

Either way, it’s all unbearable to think about. I gasp in sharp breaths and my chest is tight with the pain and fatigue of it all. I feel like I’ve just run the worst marathon of my life, and I’ve never even gone over five miles when training for the Quell put a stick up Peeta’s ass.

His clomping footsteps alert me to his presence long before I can see his form through the sheets of rain obscuring my vision. Maybe if I tuck further into myself he won’t notice me sitting on the lowest branch of the tree.

I was never a lucky person though.

He approaches me slowly, like I would a skittish animal. I tuck my chin into the safety of my knees. Surely he’ll go away if I ignore him hard enough.

I feel the air move around me as he swings a leg up and over and brings his body to rest on the same branch as me. It’s not without difficulty though, I know his leg still bothers him and can be cumbersome at times. After a quiet moment of him gathering his balance again, he lifts my chin up with his finger.

I can feel the tear tracks, dry and crusty against my cheeks and I know I look like a drowned rat, or rather a drowned Buttercup from my little pity party under the torrential rain.

“Oh, Katniss.” Warmth floods through me, all-consuming and relieving as his thumb traces the skin under my eye. “What’s wrong baby?”

My nose stings again as a fresh wave of fat tears fall from my eyes at the nickname. My lip wobbles and I can’t breathe. I try to answer, but everything comes out as a choked sob. Peeta reaches around to wrap his arm around me, rubbing my back in comforting circles. When I finally get the words out, they’re incomprehensible with my stuttering breath, throat full of tears, and snot muffling everything. To anyone but Peeta, who knows me so well, past the need for language.

“Why doesn’t she want me anymore?”

“What brought all of this on sweet girl?”

“You’re leaving me.”

“Not real.”

“Maybe not your arms. But you are. Your heart.”

“Never Katniss.”

Fat rain drops fall from his delicate eyelashes, leaving behind them a darker shade of blond from the moisture.

“You’re right here Katniss.” His steady and warm hands take my hand that’s shivering from the cold. He guides it straight over his chest and the comforting thump of his heart beneath warms me more than his coat he wrapped tightly around me does. I blink at his motions, my mind puzzling and patching them together into an attempt at coherency.

His other hand reaches towards me and he watches me closely for any sign of apprehension in my eyes. I can’t manage any to bubble up in me at the moment. Tentatively, he presses the pads of his fingers against my own chest, speeding up the beat of my own heart along with his under the firm press the palm of my hand has against it. His fingers straighten until the heel of his own hand is flush against my heart. The soaked fabric of my shirt clings to us both from the water of the rain.

“And I’m right here.” The pitch of his voice sounds at the edge of a question and a statement.

It’s not fair to him to be stuck with me though, just because he knows I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He deserves someone good and beautiful. Just like him.

Not a girl scarred from the fire she wore for pageantry and glory.

“I’m not pretty enough for you. I’m not big enough.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I wasn’t enough.”

“Katniss.” My name breaks on his tongue; he physically can’t even force the muscles to move again, as if the ache in his chest is agonisingly painful from the blow of my words. I understand now. His heart is broken. Like I shot an arrow through him instead of the truth. Maybe I did, the day I sang to the birds in kindergarten and we’re forever tethered now from the invisible line of bow string to arrowhead.

“I love you.”

His beautifully made eyes well with tears, glossing the blue over with his pain. My eyes begin to water again, even after I’ve exhausted myself of the hydration required to sustain them. It’s not hard to feel what a man like Peeta feels for yourself, deep in your bones.

“I came back for you. Back to twelve. Back to myself.”

“It kills me that you think you’re not enough. I’m so sorry I said those words in 13 to you. I know I’ll never be able to take them back. Or the-” He stares at my throat, where his hands once wove together into a nest of fear and pure hatred and I swallow under his gaze. “But I promise Katniss. I will remind you how beautiful and smart and brave and loving you are every single day. You are perfect for me.”

“But you don’t want me.”

“I’ve wanted you that way ever since I’ve understood what it meant.”

But that doesn’t make sense. His constant distance and the sincerity behind his words clash within my mind. My brow furrows and my face deepens into a scowl.

“Show me.”

His eyes drag from their connection with mine, down to my lips. He looks back to me and his eyes widen with an emotion I’m all too familiar with.

“I’m afraid.”

“What?”

“I’m afraid I won’t stop Katniss. They changed me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“So don’t stop. You’re my Peeta. No matter what.”

The kiss is gentle and sweet and I pull my body back against the rough bark, forcing him to lean into me even more. I cradle him between my thighs and smile against his lips. They taste like a fresh burst of blueberries on my tongue and my smile widens at the thought of him sneaking his own fresh muffin from the bakery’s supplies. The way his lips slide against mine, slick with the torrent of rain that assaults us is new and exciting. To consume the very rain itself off of his lip makes my chest flutter at the fact that not even the rain will get the chance to touch him that way so long as I remain in this embrace.

He shifts slightly against me and I immediately panic at the feel of him in that way. My body stiffens straight under him and he pulls back from my lips with a sheepish grin.

There’s an apology in his clear eyes but I won’t have that. I speak before his mouth can form the words.

I blurt out in a pant. “I like kissing you.”

I tuck my head into his shoulder to hide the blush that crosses my cheeks. But it’s too late. He’s already seen it if the dopey smile on his face is any indication.

“I like kissing you too.” His lips find the small space of skin by my hairline that isn’t hidden.

I scoot closer to him and burrow into his chest.

And that motion was a big mistake. Or maybe the best mistake I’ve made today.

We both carreen down into the cushion of soft grass below us when I push Peeta off-balance. A giggle bursts from my mouth unbidden as I land mostly on top of him. His body bears the brunt of the fall but he seems completely fine and a goofy grin crosses his face. He leans up to me and my heart flutters when he pulls me in for another short, sweet kiss. I nestle my knees around his hips and pull back from him with a smile.

I reach my hand to his ear and tuck a wisp of blond back behind his ear. The kisses and our proximity have made me bolder. Bold enough to interrogate him. “What is your little blonde girlfriend going to think about this?”

He sits up to bring his upper body off the damp ground and my body follows him.

“Who?”

I roll my eyes at him. I hold a hand to my chest and bat my eyelashes at him. “Oh Peeta it’s been far too long.”

“So that’s what this was all about. You were jealous?”

“No.” I scowl, crossing my arms tight over my chest.

“Katniss, she’s old enough to be our mother. Maybe even our grandmother.”

“Hmm.” My eyebrow twitches. “Maybe you’re into that sort of thing.”

He wraps his arms tighter around my waist, deliberately lower than where they were last time. He looks into my eyes for any sign that he’s gone too far but I won’t give him any. With a light pressure, he squeezes my backside tentatively with a wolfish grin, as if he’s just gotten away with stealing the last cookie from the cookie jar.

“What I’m into is what I have my hands full of right now.”

“But seriously Katniss, she saved us from the bombing in the Capitol after I tried to drag you away. She visited us both but I was the only one awake when she did.” His eyes are tender as he brushes a sopping wet piece of hair off of my collarbone. “It’s only ever been you my darling girl.”

“And it only ever will be?”

“Always.”

#everlark #one shot #adsofraser writing #thg #the hunger games #everlark fic #jealous katniss #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #post mockingjay

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deputyclover · 1 month

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UNDERBLOG TUMBLR SEXYMAN

@deputyclover @thehumanofjustice @a-purple-anon @another-face-in-a-sea-of-purple @infinitrix @martlet-the-snowdin-builder @whisper-the-human @the-kindness-soul @foulphilosopherft

AND YOUR SEXYMAN IS THE HUMAN OF JUSTICE!

And now, for an acceptance speech from our victor.

*A podium appears in front of Justice.

#underblog💛#clover undertale yellow #tumblr sexymen poll

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vintage-sweden · 11 months

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Model ship builder Victor Carlsson in his workshop, 1934, Sweden.

#1934 #1930s #vintage men #model building #model ships #old men

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sgiandubh · 5 months

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So about TCND. NO I'M KIDDING. Don't throw me away. What else are you watching or reading or interested in lately? There isn't actually anything to talk about regarding OL (the show or actors therein) and TCND is off the table until someone has actually seen it. Anything interesting going on?

Dear What Else Anon,

Oh, I am definitely not going to throw out such a wonderful question! I do think there are more things of interest regarding OL and actors therein (more on this, tomorrow and mood/current drama allowing). But your ask reminded me (and should remind anyone) there are other things happening under the sun than this.

I am still fighting with The Fiery Cross. Sometimes, I get tired of its unjustified slow burn and briefly seek solace somewhere else. While I quit the horrible habit of reading two books simultaneously years ago, I find soothing to sometimes take a break with a good poem.

This one, for example: Brecht's Questions From a Worker Who Reads (translated into English by M. Hamburger - probably the most satisfying version I could find on the Internet, right now - the original is um, more complex)

Who built Thebes of the seven gates? In the books you will find the name of kings. Did the kings haul up the lumps of rock? And Babylon, many times demolished. Who raised it up so many times? In what houses Of gold-glittering Lima did the builders live? Where, the evening that the Wall of China was finished Did the masons go? Great Rome Is full of triumphal arches. Who erected them? Over whom Did the Caesars triumph? Had Byzantium, much praised in song, Only palaces for its inhabitants? Even in fabled Atlantis The night the ocean engulfed it The drowning still bawled for their slaves.

The young Alexander conquered India. Was he alone? Caesar beat the Gauls. Did he not have even a cook with him? Philip of Spain wept when his armada Went down. Was he the only one to weep? Frederick the Second won the Seven Years' War. Who Else won it?

Every page a victory. Who cooked the feast for the victors? Every ten years a great man. Who paid the bill?

So many reports. So many questions.

Speaking of Byzantium, this reminded me of Bissera Pentcheva and Jonathan Abel's absolutely remarkable experiment into reconstructing (by computer) the acoustics of Constantinople's Agia Sophia and use it as an audio filter for sacred music recordings. In order to do that, she simply had to pop a balloon inside the cathedral (with special permit and adequate measuring and recording equipment) - it took her five days to get the perfect pitch. As a result, we now can hear those hymns the same way someone would around 1400, AD. This is probably the closest we could get to time travel:

youtube

Oh, and I am also watching The Crown's sixth and last season, as many in this fandom, I suppose. More on this, when we are completely done with it. OL was the only exception to my read/listen/watch it all before discussing it rule.

You are obviously Anon but I have to thank you for this! Brought up wonderful memories of week-ends in Constantinople, staying at the Hagia Sofia Mansions and nearly touching its roof from the window of my room in the Yeșil Ev villa. Today, it's over: the Hilton guys took the whole complex and revamped it, Mafia style.

But this memory will never go away:

... a room

....with a view:

Would it be a good idea to make a new, weekly series out of your ask, perhaps something along the lines of Life Beyond OL? I am seriously toying with it, if that's what it takes to try and keep a modicum of sanity during promo: you decide on this one, here is a poll.

#anon #poll

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belphegorspillow · 1 year

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helloww, if youre still considering reqs, could i please ask who would win in a fist fight between all of the obm brothers? With no powers and no weapons, just a full on brawl with one another.. and who would emerge as the sole victor?

Hi Love~! This is a pretty interesting request. Thanks for it! ~~~~~~~~ Most Likely to Least Likely to win a Fist Fight between the Brothers. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Beelzebub - Most likely ~ If we are excluding the fact, he wouldn't want to hurt anyone, he is first place. ~ Beel is a full-on body builder, goes to the gym everyday pretty much. ~ His only main weakness in a fight is the fact he doesn’t want to hurt his brothers. Lucifer ~ He isn’t as strong as Beel physically, but is really strong still, I mean he can hang Mammon anywhere... ~ He is also really intelligent, he knows how to plan ahead if he were to be told about this fight, if not, he also knows his brothers’ weaknesses. ~ His weakness would be really hard to achieve, but it would be to try and make him distracted somehow. Satan ~ He is strong and Intelligent like Lucifer in this situation. ~ He reads books on torture, I’m sure he knows some pressure points to help him in the fight as well. He is also physically strong to hold up against most of his brothers. ~ His weakness is either angering him so much he gets out of hand, and you attack his weak points while he is out of hand...or just bring a cat... Mammon ~ He is strong. He may live on spicy Ramen noodles, but being strung up helps the core- [/j... mostly.] ~ He can’t beat most, but he is able to get far in a fight I would say. ~ His weakness is being distracted by Grimm, MC cheering for him in the fight, or getting scared by Lucifer... Asmodeus ~ He isn’t entirely strong per say, but he beats the bottom two in strength. ~ He wouldn’t win the fight but can get decently far. He is fit enough to run off, let the fight start and get some of the less strong out before he gets noticed and attacked. ~ His weakness is pretty much, throw dirt at him. He will be distracted trying to fix up appearance, boom easy win. Belphegor ~ Belphie is sort of an in-between here. He is pretty strong, but not stronger than his brothers. [He also sometimes works out with Beel as the anime showed] ~ He also is tired pretty much 24/7, so that is a large disadvantage that he won’t be fully energized. ~ Also, he isn’t really fit, not as bad as Levi, but still. Leviathan - Least Likely ~ Sorry Levi, but you’re at the bottom for this one. ~ He is very unfit, he has lived in his room for decades, pretty much living on energy drinks and fast food... ~ He was part of the Navy [not anymore from what I know] and has a sixpack, but he still isn’t the strongest here physically. Power is a different story though. ~ His weakness is using his envy against him and using any anime related thing he likes to distract him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hope you enjoyed :] Masterlist

#obey me!#obey me #Beelzebub #lucifer #obey me satan #Obey me lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #leviathan x mc #sorry levi stans-#my writting #obey me mc #mc #obey me x reader

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thgfanfictionlibrary · 4 months

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E Rated Fics Masterlist (22)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21

Created: November 17th, 2023

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The Heartrender-juniebugg (ao3) Summary: After a shipwreck has left an abducted witch and a member of the ominous Order bent on wiping out her kind stranded on the icy shores of an uninhabited land, the two must work together to survive or face tearing each other apart in the process.

The Holiday Stand In-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Modern AU. Katniss Everdeen needs a guy to pretend to be her boyfriend for the holidays, and when she meets Peeta Mellark she thinks he's the answer to her Christmas prayers. Peeta also happens to need a significant other to take home to show off to his folks. So Kantiss proposes that they pose as each other's dates for the holiday season. Just to get their families off their backs. But pretending to be in love is a dangerous game, one that Katniss might not end up winning unless she plays her cards right. In a different time and place, trying to sell another love story, will the star-crossed lovers still happen anyway?

The Hoodie-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Based off the prompt: I’ve been wearing my boyfriend’s hoodie around the house for the last week. I tried to give it back last night. “That’s not my hoodie.” He said. I then realized with horror I’ve been wearing our builder’s hoodie. In front of our builder.

The Marrow of the Story-hutchabelle (ao3) Summary: Written for the Everlark Fic Exchange Springtime 2020 Edition Prompt 17: Everlark enemies to lovers, a long-standing grudge (could be anything, even simple) but somehow it is discovered that Katniss is a bone marrow match for Peeta. If she doesn’t donate he will die.

The Meek Shall Inherit the Eldest Everdeen-Meadowlark27 (ao3) Summary: The boys all wanted Katniss at the slag heap. But Peeta Mellark just wanted Katniss.

The miner's wife-MockingJayFlyingFree (ao3) Summary: In an alternate universe in which Prim was never reaped, Katniss married Gale at the age of 18, as a good Seam girl should. 12 years later, she has two children with him. Peeta Mellark, the lone victor of the 74th Hunger Games, is a failed mentor and a prostitute in the Capitol. When he is home in District 12, he is self-destructive and on his way to becoming an alcoholic. What happens when their paths cross for the first time since that fateful incident with the bread?

The Missing Book - The Early Years-Hey_You (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta grow back together after Peeta's return to District 12. After Katniss realizes her true feelings for Peeta, she is faced with the very real possibility that he no longer cares for her in the way she had hoped. Post "Mockingjay" but pre-Epilogue. Canon compliant. *I always felt that there should have been a fourth book in the series, and kind of felt as if the ending of "Mockingjay" was rushed. ;-)

The One She Left Behind-Xerxia (ao3) Summary: Everlark modern AU Weeks after moving to New York, Peeta Mellark encounters a woman he thought he'd never see again.

The Only Opinion That Matters-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Another tumblr inbox prompt that turned into a one-shot. Based on the Prompt: [Post-mj, growing back together] katniss goes down on peeta for the first time?? Bonus if she asks advice from johanna beforehand and johanna being johanna, goes into explicit detail causing katniss to panic

The Other Mockingjay-MockingJayFlyingFree (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta weren't reaped for the Quarter Quell. Instead, they were forced by Snow to get married as soon as they turned 18. How does their marriage change the future of Panem? Will there still be a rebellion - when Snow is controlling the Mockingjay?

#e #masterlist #everlark #everlark fanfiction #thg #thg fanfiction #e masterlist

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