#bill skarsgard smoking

[kingkat12]

omg I love your fics so so so much and I think you would absolutely nail a fanfic where roman is teaching reader how to smoke? or something like that 😭 like it being really intimate and stuff ughh idk but roman smoking just makes me go absolutely feral

Roman..... teaching reader.... how to smoke....?

do you.... want to give me..... a heart attack......?

THIS WAS SO DAMN HOT IT MADE MY BREATH HITCH WHEN I READ THIS, you BET i want to write this!!! you know me, i love writing reader having her first time doing anything at all lol, this was PERFEEEECT!! hope i've done your request justice, thank you so much for this one!!<3333

nymphomaniac (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, smoking, mentions of sex, angst, flirting deluxe, Roman's mouth is FOUL

summary: not all lessons are good for you-- especially the ones taught by the notorious Roman Godfrey, who you also happen to have a history with

word count: 2,425

a/n: and this is NO WAY an encouragement to smoke, i don't smoke myself so... heh. read at your own risk i suppose, and be critical of what you read on the internet PLEASE!! mwah

How to smoke – a thorough guide by Roman Godfrey. That was a book I wouldn’t buy in a million years; why give a millionaire more money?

Thankfully, I didn't have to pay anything to get a free trial from the author of said imaginary book.

Roman sat next to me on the porch leading up to the house of the party we were at, having asked me to follow him outside to escape all the noise. I wouldn’t have gone with him, had I not started to get a headache from what I could frankly only call ear-rape. “It’s too fucking loud in there,” I muttered, shifting on the uncomfortable step. “There’s a reason I don’t go to these things very often.”

Roman shrugged, patting down the pockets of his jacket. “It’s not usually this bad when someone else hosts. But I heard this guy is notorious for being legally deaf, so that might explain it,”

“I wouldn’t be shocked if he did that to himself,”

With a laugh, Roman pulled out an orange-hued box of cigarettes, shaking his head. “It’s too bad you don’t attend parties that often. I never see you anymore, y’know? Just bring some earplugs if you’re so bothered by the damn noise,” 

Oh. My heart jumped with a jolt of pain. I cleared my throat; “Of course you don’t see me anymore, Roman… We broke up two months ago,” 

Despite seeing it coming from miles away, it had been the hardest breakup of my life. I knew whom I had gotten into a relationship with, knew exactly what kind of a guy Roman was, so I had been emotionally prepared for it when it all fell apart. The relationship had been more of a whirlwind thing, a lust thing, which had left me with a very bad case of being-walked-in-on PTSD. That one time Roman decided he wanted to go down on me at school, only for my math teacher to walk in on us in the classroom, was a memory I was sure I would never forget. Sadly. 

However, the bliss of being sexually compatible couldn’t carry the relationship forever, and I was aware of that long before he was. Around the time we hit the one-month milestone, I could see in his gorgeous green eyes that he was tired. Roman needed to be free to function, free to fuck any girl that walked by, and free to disappear for hours and come back whenever it pleased him. 

And what did I need? I wasn’t so sure anymore. 

If I were to use my brain and ponder that question once more, I would conclude that I needed to stop sitting next to my hot ex-boyfriend who was now lighting one of his classic cigarettes. Roman knew I didn’t approve, knew how many times I had told him it was cancer on a stick—still, I settled for the fact that he wasn’t scared of death. Actually, he probably wasn’t scared of anything other than real commitment. 

With a sigh, Roman nodded to himself. “I’m aware, but I’m still allowed to miss the sight of you,” He turned to me, his strikingly green gaze piercing mine— I held my breath. This was getting intense. Nonetheless, the next thing that rolled out of his mouth caught me off guard; “Do you have a lighter?” 

… What? “Roman, you know I don’t smoke,”

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk. “Worth a shot. I had hopes that you’d at least managed to become an arsonist in our time apart, maybe then you’d carry a lighter around with you,” Like this, faced with his heartbreakingly beautiful smile beneath the hues of the moonlight, I was reminded of the first thought I ever had when I met him; he was so… cool. Roman always looked so damn cool. I loved the way it made my heart flutter— the feeling of being with the coolest guy at school was still the most thrilling feeling of all. I felt cool, knowing he wanted to sit next to me instead of being inside the loudest party of the year hunting down his next lay. 

It was impossible not to smile back. “Don’t be so disappointed. At least I’m still a cannibal,”

Humored, Roman chuckled; “Glad to hear it,”

“And you’re still a nymphomaniac,”

That seemed to strike a nerve— Roman let out an offended huff, now patting down the pockets of his jeans. “Forget it. I never go anywhere without my lighter, anyway,” he mumbled.

Oh no. ��I didn’t mean it as an insult! We were joking, Roman. You’ve never been the type to hide that you like… sex—” 

“Don’t fucking talk to me about sex right now, I’m too tipsy,” Roman’s words were harsh, snappy. He wasn’t looking at me anymore, now fishing out his usual red lighter; I hadn’t seen that one in a while. “No sex-talk. None.”

“Fine, Jesus!—”

“Thanks to you, I now have to smoke away the taste of you. Thank you,” he grumbled, a slight twitch appearing beneath his left eye as he brought the cigarette to his plush lips— oh, how I missed those. “Your perfume isn’t helping, either. So don’t talk about sex, because then I’ll start thinking about sex with you, along with how you taste after I’ve been going down on you for about ten minutes, squirming, whining, and then I start thinking of how much I miss it. So could you just—just shut up for a minute, okay?”

I stared at Roman in disbelief, my lips parting as my jaw threatened to hit the floor. He must’ve had a few beers too many to be talking so openly about… anything. I would go off on him about his use of words, telling me to shut up, but I was too stunned to think properly. With my mind still buzzing, I scooted closer to Roman on the cold steps of the porch, daring to lean my head down on his shoulder like I used to do when we were together. “You’ve only proved my point,” I breathed, closing my eyes. “Nympho.”

I knew him too well— I knew Roman would appreciate casual physical contact. He didn’t have enough of that in his life, anyway. Chuckling, amused, he lit his cigarette, inhaling with a quiet moan— something told me he had been waiting for a hit for some time. And just as I opened my mouth, ready to start my usual smoking-is-bad lecture, Roman cut me to it; “Don’t start talking about cancer now, either,”

“It is a cancer stick,”

“I don’t care,”

“You should!”

“But I don’t,” With a sigh, Roman exhaled, watching the smoke evaporate into the warm summer air. He leaned his head on top of mine, and I couldn’t help but think how the smell of the cigarette clashed with the comforting smell of his shampoo. It ruined everything. 

This conversation was one we’d had tens of times, and I wasn’t too keen on repeating it. “Roman…” I reached for the cigarette he lazily held between his fingers, feeling the softness of his hand against mine. “Maybe you don’t care, but I do. You need to take care of yourself.” I didn’t need to look at Roman to know his brows were drawn together as I took the cigarette out of his hand, holding it away from him. 

He sighed again, slower this time; “If you’d ever smoked, you’d see the appeal,”

“Yeah?” It was hard not to roll my eyes— “The appeal of cancer?”

With a low laugh, Roman turned his head, kissing the top of my head out of habit. Weirdly enough, it felt platonic for the first time ever, yet it didn’t fail to evoke a hard thump in my chest. It felt like I was being electrocuted from the inside, and my eyes sprung open—I was happy he couldn’t see that. “Not cancer, don’t be stupid,” he huffed. “Just use that pretty little brain of yours, I know it’s in there somewhere.”

If only he knew my brain was currently working overtime. “I’ll never see the appeal of inhaling crap that ruins your lungs. If anything, you’re the stupid one,”

Roman rolled his eyes, gently giving my head a nudge with the shoulder I was leaning on, motioning for me to sit up. “Let me show you, just once. If you don’t like it, you’re allowed to call me a nicotine-addicted nymphomaniac until the last day of high school,”

“And the day after. An extension for your favorite ex,”

“Nope. The day of graduation, and that’s it,”

I turned to look at the blindingly pretty smile on Roman’s face— how was it possible not to fall for this guy? He was gorgeous. “Fine,” I mumbled, knowing I would call him that no matter what behind his back until the day he died. “So how the fuck do I do this?”

Something in Roman’s green, green, eyes shifted. Maybe he was wondering why he had ever let me go in the first place— maybe he was thinking about the word to describe the color of my hair as it mixed with the grays of the moonlight? He cleared his throat, turning his body towards me as I mirrored him; “The first step is easy,” he said, reaching forward to place his hand behind mine, bringing the cigarette to my lips. 

My skin burned. Fucking burned, with every touch. 

Roman’s eyes were already big, which is why I was surprised to see they could get even bigger when he gazed down at my lips. “Open up,” he breathed, absentminded. 

Now, I could be sure he wasn’t thinking about the color of my hair. Maybe he was back to reminiscing about the taste of me? Or other nasty nympho things, as per usual.

I placed the cigarette between my lips, but Roman let out a short, alarmed sound that nearly made me yelp. “Now comes the trick,” he urged, leaning closer— I was unsure whether he was aware he was inching towards my face or not. The closer he got, the easier it was to focus on the single strand of his dark hair that lay over his forehead, straying from his stylings. It was so damn attractive— I had to hold myself back from smiling, now that I remembered the one time I caught him pulling it out of his gelled updo to lay it there on purpose. Cutie.

“The trick?” I echoed, realizing he had frozen to his spot just staring at my lips. I pulled the cigarette away from my mouth; Roman hadn’t said anything for about five seconds. This was bad. This was dangerous. It made me want to jump him and let him fuck me right here on the porch. 

“Uh—” Roman cleared his throat, letting out a breathy chuckle as he shook his head. “Sorry. The trick, right…”

God, I was two seconds away from bursting into flames like a phoenix. Was I still breathing?

“For your first time, you should— because this is your first time, right?”

“Yes!”

“You sure?”

“Roman!”

“Alright, alright!” Roman laughed, biting his lip as he tilted his head just a little. Had the cigarette not forced a space between us, I would’ve started wondering when he would kiss me. “The trick is to not inhale too much smoke for your first time. I don’t want you to cough up your left lung on my new shirt. And hold the smoke in your mouth for a moment, let it cool down, and only inhale it when you’ve taken the cig out of your mouth.”

If Roman one day actually did decide to write a smoking-guide, I could at least be sure the content would be explained simply and concisely. “Seems easy enough,” I mumbled, watching Roman’s pupils widen as I placed the cigarette back between my lips and sucked in a small amount of smoke into my mouth.

It felt like I was getting a mild burn on my tongue— it wasn’t pleasant. For a second, I got scared my eyes would pop from the shock, and I closed them to ensure the blood at least wouldn’t splatter anywhere if I happened to be so unlucky. But when the burning subsided, I finally dared to inhale.

My eyes sprung open, meeting the fascination in Roman’s green gaze as my previous headache caused by the loud music disappeared. My brain suddenly felt like it was buzzing with pleasure and energy. Before I knew it, I was half giggling against Roman’s mouth, letting my cigarette-clad hand fall by my side. “Wow,” I breathed, in awe of the satisfying whirring in my head. 

Roman looked like he was two seconds away from cooing at me, right in my face; “There you go, good girl,” he purred. “Do you get it now?”

God, I hated myself. Still, what I hated more, was that my hot ex-boyfriend was blatantly right. “I think I do,” 

Roman hummed, smirking as he reached for the cigarette in my hand, smoothly brushing his fingers across my skin on his way down. With a content sigh, he looked into my dazed eyes as he pressed his free fingers over the pulse of my wrist— “I still make your heart jump,” he breathed, leaning in so close I could feel the hotness of his breath against my cheek.

I swallowed. “You always will. It doesn’t mean anything,” My eyes flickered back and forth between Roman’s green eyes and his plush, pink lips despite knowing I shouldn’t. 

“It doesn’t?” he echoed, visibly amused as he raised his brows. 

“… Nope,”

Roman hummed, nudging the tip of my nose with his just as he always did—was this maybe just a habit, or was he going to…? The atmosphere was so thick, I could reach out and touch it. My breath had long caught in my chest, but Roman’s next words only made it worse; “Let’s talk about sex again,” he whispered against my lips, his lashes hanging heavy over his eyes.

“No. This is over. We’re just sharing a cigarette,”

“We could share a bed too,”

“Stop it,” I breathed, hoping he’d spot the desperation in my eyes. “It’s been two months. Aren’t you over this?” Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.

Roman stilled. With the next beat of my pulse against his fingers, his eyes softened with a new realization beneath the moonlight; 

“Over you? Never,”

[ilovetheideaofu]

Bite Me!

credit is apparently billscenes_ but I found it on Twitter @shivmcavoy 🤷‍♀️

[godfreyr]

Who’s in for a smoke break?

[antiatuz]

I think Bill S. would love me if we met at a metro...that's how I picture our meeting for the first time...I finally go to Sweden and that's where I come across Bill S.

[beautyallaroundus25]

Masculine Beauty💋💋💋

[crowsofdarkness]

A Fight For Darkness: Chapter One

-gif and pictures not mine. credit to owners-

Pairings: Eric Draven(Bill Skarsgard) x Reader.

Content Warnings: language, violence, mentions of murder, black mail, blood, smoking, drinking, mentions of drug use, arranged marriage, 18+smut that I will mention at the beginning of the chapter.

Summary: An unknown text and a list full of questions for what happened to your sister leads you down to the underground fight ring that belongs to none other than Eric Draven, The Crow. Once he captures your eyes with his, the web you were desperate to untangle suddenly tightens.

Authors Note: This is not cannon to The Crow(2024). Shelly nor her and Eric's love story exist in this series. Eric does have his fast ability to heal thought. Tags are open for this series as well!

A Fight For Darkness Masterlist

My footsteps echoed down the long and dark corridor, the gloom moisture clinging to not only the concrete walls but my already clammy skin as well. Even in the quiet, there was still a lingering dripping from some kind of running water that seemed to echo with every step I took. It was hard to breathe due to my heart that was currently logged in my throat as fear clung deep into the marrow of my bones, unsure what exactly I was about to walk into. I was going in blind with only one text guiding me, the desperation for answers taking over the rational side of my brain. 

Unknown: If you want to know what happened to your sister, come here at 10 p.m. Alone. Show the man at the door this picture and he’ll let you in. 

Attached to the text was an address, somewhere unknown, and a picture of a bloody crow.

After six months of no answers from the police on what happened to my missing sister, I was left with no choice but to find answers on my own. My sister and I weren’t always close due to some past family trauma, but we always texted to check in every first Sunday of the month just to see how things were going. When my texts went unanswered for two months, I felt deep in my gut something was wrong because she always texted me back. 

Swallowing the lump, or my heart, in my throat, I dragged my hand over the wall using it to guide me in the dim light, hoping that soon I’d find some sort of door of sign of life. The first door I walked through was heavily guarded by two men and I did my best not to notice the guns hoisted on their hips. Once I showed them the picture of the bloody crow, I was thrusted through the door with a grunt and the noise of it slamming behind me. 

Doing my best to ignore the looming thought that was pestering me about potentially being murdered, I pulled at the sleeves of my hoodie to bring it over my hands as I came to a near dead end, the only way to turn is left. So with a sigh, I took the left and grabbed my phone out of my pocket. 

It was a few minutes past five but the thing that had my attention was the fact I had no service. 

“I am underground,” I grumbled to myself, pocketing my phone again. 

The sudden commotion of yelling and loud bass caught my attention, a light flickering at the end of the hall above a door. I came to a pause in front of the large metal door, trying to gain the final ounce of courage I needed to push through. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was about to walk into, whether it be my death or kidnapping, but the image of my sister flashed in my mind. Even though we weren’t close, we were all each other had, our parents dying when we were younger. 

My shaking fingers wrapped around the rusted door knob and with one final deep breath, I pushed open the door. The scent of sweat, alcohol, and something copper permeated the air as I pushed through the thick crowd of bodies, all screaming at something. 

“Get him, Crow!” 

“Beat his ass, Crow! Don’t let him take you down!” 

“OH FUCK! LOOK AT ALL THAT BLOOD!” 

Uneasy settled in my stomach, threatening to rise up in my throat as my mouth ran dry when I pushed myself through the clearing of bodies. A large cage came into view, illuminated by red LED lights, but what caught my attention were the two people inside of it. One man was on the ground, lifeless with blood pooling out of a gash in his forehead, while another sat on his hips laying fist after fist into the other guy's face. Tattoos littered over the puncher’s body and I watched almost in a trance as the muscles in his back tensed with each and every punch. 

“What the fuck is this?!” I choked, my fear being drowned out by the music and cheers from the crowd. 

I’d heard rumors for years about an underground fight club, one that the police couldn’t shut down no matter how hard they tried. Along with the rumors, people speculated that someone higher up, a judge or even the mayor, was a part of this underground fight club. I’d always been naive, not wanting to think my quiet little town in Michigan could have something so disgusting as an underground and highly illegal fighting ring. 

How the fuck was my missing sister apart of this? 

I shook my head, knowing that there wasn’t any way she was tied up in this. She was the most innocent person I knew and quite frankly, pure as could be. 

How would you know? You talked once a month for less than ten minutes. 

Shaking the thought from my head, I dared a glance up at the cage once more and nearly threw up as I saw the man with tattoos kick the other man in the stomach. Hard enough that the sound of bones breaking echoed in the thick air. 

“Fuck,” I held a hand to my mouth and turned on my heels, desperately needing to get out of there. 

I hated violence. It made me sick to my stomach every single time; like it was doing currently. 

Pushing through the crowd, ignoring their calls to whoever The Crow was, and nearly sucked in a sob of relief when I found the door I’d walked through a few minutes prior. Only once I walked through the doorway, I realized it wasn’t the same door. I’d walked into a room only illuminated by a muted orange light hanging from the ceiling as it casted over a single bed. A body laying halfway on it with cold vacant eyes and a slit throat pooling blood to the floor. 

A shriek clawed its way out of my throat as I slipped on something wet, maybe the blood, and fell onto something hard. Crawling to my knees, I stared back at another set of cold vacant eyes with a bullet wound to their forehead. 

“What the fuck!” I cried, sliding away from yet another dead body. 

Tears spilled over my face as I hit something hard but before I could breathe a sigh of relief thinking it was a wall, I was yanked up by my hair. Pain burned at my scalp as I was thrown against the wall, now meeting a pair of cold but vibrant eyes as they thinned into slits. 

“Who the fuck are you?” A voice thick with an accent spat towards me. 

All I could smell was not only my fear but the crimson blood that covered me as well. My dress and bare legs were covered in it as my feet dangled against the floor. Whoever this man was with the cold eyes held me high against the wall and nearly out of view from the light so I could only make out those eyes. 

Bright as the morning sun yet dark as the bottom of the ocean, looming in the depths of despair. 

His grip from my hair had moved to my neck, cutting off almost all of my oxygen. Stars danced in the corner of my eyes and my body began to feel weak, my soul flickering as it let in the darkness. 

Just as I felt life leave me, the door to the room clicked open and another thick accent filled the room. It was in a language I wasn’t familiar with but whatever was said must have been important enough because the man threw me to the floor with two simple words. 

“Don’t move.” 

Blinking rapidly, I gasped for breath while slowly rising to my knees. I avoided the dead bodies, not bothering to look to see if maybe the woman on the bed was my sister. Instead I watched as the two alive bodies chatted in the dark corners of the room. The newcomer left the door cracked, just enough for me to slip through. If I was quick enough, I could leave and get lost with the crowd. There wasn’t any way whoever attacked me got a good look at my face since I couldn’t see him. 

Now or never. 

Spriting up from the ground, I left my heels behind as I slid through the blood and barreled my way through the door. Boutrius' voice lingered behind me but I didn’t dare look back, just kept running through the crowd. I didn’t bother to care how I looked covered in blood. More than half of the people here were either too stoned or drunk to notice. 

Seeing another door less than a few feet in front of me, I didn’t bother to question if it was the door to safety as I nearly kicked it open with the hope to find some solace from the men chasing me. Leaning my body against the door, I convulsed with sobs and tried my best to stand up on two feet. I could scream, cry, and fall to my knees back at my apartment. 

Not here. 

I needed to find a way out of here. 

“Are you lost?” 

Gasping, I opened my eyes with the fear of somehow one of those men already lying in wait for me in this room. But instead of cold vibrant eyes, I was met with a pair of bright and angelic ones as they dragged up and down the entire length of my legs. Those eyes lingered on the blood covering me with furrowed brows and a cigarette hung from his lips. 

I noticed the man sitting in front of me was the one inside the cage, the one with all the tattoos that was nearly killing his opponent. 

Kill. 

Murder. 

Two dead bodies. 

Tears continued to fall as I turned on my heels to reach for the doorknob, only for the door to be slammed shut as soon as I opened it. I screamed in fear, ready for whatever this man would do to me. 

“Please,” I begged while hastily shaking my head. “I promise I didn’t see anything. Let me leave and I won’t tell anyone.” 

His large frame loomed behind me and his thick arm, covered in tattoos, continued to keep the door shut. 

“What did you see?”

I could feel his chest vibrate against my back when he spoke. 

“I-I-can’t. Pl-plea-please. I w-want-.” 

I couldn't speak, the fear and images of what happened in that room plagued me. They threatened to drag me down to the depths of whatever hell was. It clawed at my insides, shredding them piece by piece until I was nothing more than a pile of blood. 

Blood. 

A loud boom echoed against the door causing me to scream yet again and I nearly fell into this man's bare chest as one of his arms wrapped around me. 

“What has you spooked, hm?” His voice brushed against my ear. 

I shivered in his embrace before trying to remove myself from it, only making him tighten his arm around my stomach as the banging against the door continued. 

“Open up, motherfucker! We’ve got a situation in one of the rooms. Two situations that need to be cleaned up!” A voice called through the thick metal. 

My body nearly went slack in this man's embrace. Something he picked up on so he dragged me to the couch he’d previously been sitting on and threw me onto it. With a firm finger he pointed at me. 

“Don’t you dare fucking move.” 

Through the tears, I just now noticed he was shirtless, only wearing a pair of black athletic shorts that hung low on his hips. He was tall and built like a wall of muscles as he stalked over to the door and opened it just a crack. 

“What's going on?” His gruff voice asked whoever was on the other side of the door. 

“Eric, there’s two dead bodies in one of the rooms. Some dude walked in on it and is freaking out. I have Jackson holding him in the locker room so he can’t tell anyone what's going on. We’re working on clearing out the club but you need to talk to this guy.” 

By now the tears and sobs have stopped, throat dry, and I stared blankly ahead at the peeling wall in front of me. I’d become numb to my surroundings, not even picking up the scent of cigarette smoke and cinnamon that lingered in the air. The blood had died on my legs, painting me with the images that refused to stop playing in my mind. My dress, however, was still soaked with blood. 

The man that was holding me in this room, Eric, spewed out a handful of curses before muttering something to whoever was on the other side of the door. 

What if it was the two men chasing me? The one that nearly choked me to death in that very same room? 

A slamming of a door caused me to jump in my spot on the worn leather couch and as Eric stalked back towards me I began to feel the all too familiar weight of dread fill me. 

Fuck, he’s going to kill me. He’s going to finish what that one guy couldn’t. 

Expecting him to pull a gun out from somewhere or wrap his hand around my throat, I was shocked to see him sit on the table in front of me, letting his elbows rest on his knees. My mouth was still dry, not producing any saliva, as I stared blankly in those angel eyes now. He still had the lit cigarette hanging from his lips as he motioned towards my soaked dress. 

“Do you have a name?” Eric asked. 

I couldn’t speak, words suddenly so foreign on my tongue, so instead I gave him a curt nod. Just as Eric was about to speak again, there was another knock on the door causing him to yell over his shoulder. 

“I’m busy!” 

“Boss! It’s important! We found something!” 

He swiftly pushed himself off of the table and back over to the door. It was open for less than five seconds as he retrieved something before slamming it shut. 

“Y/N L/N.” 

My eyes snapped over towards Eric as he leaned against the door holding my purse in one hand and my wallet in the other. 

How could I have been so stupid to not only bring something that identifies me but also drop it in this unknown place? 

Eric was sitting in front of me once more, dropping my belongings onto the table next to him yet I refused to meet his gaze; keeping it on the door ahead. My only salvation to freedom. 

A vice grip yanked my chin, forcing me to meet Eric's eyes as he held strong on my chin. 

“Now, Y/N,” he cocked his head to the side. “You’re going to tell me how the fuck you got into my club and why you’re covered in blood while I have two dead bodies to dispose of.” 

[dalekofchaos]

Mortal Kombat fancast(new)

Simu Liu as Liu Kang

Glenn Powell as Johnny Cage

Charlize Theron as Sonya Blade

Ken Watanabe as Raiden

Henry Golding as Sub-Zero/Noob Saibot/Bi-Han

Andrew Koji as Scorpion

Manu Benett as Kano

Rory McCann as Goro

Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa as SHang Tsung(Old, WHO ELSE???)

Tony Leung as Shang Tsung(Young)

Bill Skarsgard as Reptile

Iko Uwais as Kung Lao

Aldis Hodge as Jackson "Jax" Briggs

Elodie Yung as Kitana/Milenena

Zoe Saldana as Jade

Harry Shum Jr. as Sub-Zero/Kuai-Liang

Justin H. Min as Smoke

Brian Tee as Sektor

Chiwetel Ejiofor as Cyrax

Scott Adkins as Baraka

Conan Stevens as Kintaro

Dave Bautista as Shao Kahn

Eugene Brave Rock as Nightwolf

John Cena as Stryker

Jon Bernthal as Kabal

Michelle Yeoh as Sindel

Jade Cargill as Sheeva

Nathan Jones as Motaro

Doug Jones as Ermac

Because of Tumblr's stupid 30 picture limit, I cannot add more pictures, so here’s the rest.

Larry Lam as Rain

Jonathan Patrick Foo as Chameleon

Karen Fukuhara as Khameleon

Jet Li as Fujin

Sonoya Mizuno as Sareena

Brenda Song as Kia

Javicia Leslie as Jataaka

Anna Diop as Tanya

Jai Courtney as Jarek

Karl Urban as Reiko

Mads Mikkelsen as Shinnok

Hoon Lee as Quan Chi

Benedict Wong as Bo Rai Cho

Lewis Tan as Kenshi

Yvonne Chapman as Li Mei

Emma Myers as Frost

Peter Mensah as Drahmin

Derek Mears as Moloch

Charles Melton as Mavado

Ron Yuan as Hsu Hao

Alexandra Daddario as Nitara

Gordon Liu as Shujinko

Constance Wu as Ashrah

Donnie Yen as Hotaru

Daniel Wu as Dairou

Mahershala Ali as Darrius

Matt Smith as Havik

Dominic Sherwood as Kobra

Kristen Stewart as Kira

Keith David as Onaga

Ian McKellen as Argus

Eva Green as Delia

Tom Hardy as Taven

Mark Strong as Daegon

Ron Pearlman as Blaze

Jessica Henwick as Skarlet

Milly Alcock as Cassie Cage

Delainey Hayles as Jacqui Briggs

Mackenyu as Takeda Takahashi

Ludi Lin as Kung Jin

Winston Duke as Kotal Kahn

Tao Okamoto as D’Vorah

Jensen Ackles as Erron Black

Dafne Keen and Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson as Ferra/Torr

Tony Jaa as Tremor

Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje as Geras

Emily Blunt as Cetrion

Tilda Swinton as Kronika

[destinyc1020]

Well, Austin copied Bill Skarsgard dad's voice to play Feyd Rautha so he can easily play Bill's brother. Even Stellan was surprised when he first heard Austin doing the Feyd's voice. Austin has a good knack for doing different voices because his Christopher Walken is also amazing. That's why it's so annoying when haters say that he is stuck with the Elvis voice when he has not been doing the Elvis voice for years, he just has a lower voice than when he was a teen. Colman Domingo mentioned recently how his amazing lower register did not fully develop until he was in his 40s

Haha yea, Austin has a great knack for doing voice impersonations lol. 😅

He mentioned on his SNL opening monologue that growing up, he used to do voice impersonations to try to get his mom to laugh or put a smile on her face. He even did a quick Gallum impression on the show that was pretty spot on! 😂

The Christopher Walken voice impersonation is great too lol.

And yea girl, Idk why ppl think he's somehow deliberately putting on a fake voice. 🙄 It's obvious he's not. Do you know how hard it would be to FAKE a voice for years day in and day out? 🥴

And yea, I thought it was already common knowledge that all of our voices naturally deepen with age? 🥴 Otherwise, we'd all sound like a bunch of 15 year olds for the rest of our lives rofl 🤣 😂

If you listen to Austin in The Shannara Chronicles (long before Elvis), you'll see that his voice was already getting deeper by then.

And wow! I didn't know that little tidbit about Colman!😳 It can definitely happen though! My step-dad said that his voice didn't get as deep as it is now until he was much older.... like, way past puberty. Some men's voices just continue to change over the years. 🤷🏾‍♀️

And also, Austin used to smoke in the past. I know he's said he's "quit", but who knows for sure? (Smoking is highly addictive 🥴) It's a well-known fact that smoking will change your voice if you do it long enough or often enough.

The only real difference that I see in Austin's voice is that it's raspier, he sounds less "Californian" now, and he might pronounce certain words here and there a little differently. And also, Austin used to speak kinda fast lol. 😅 I'm sure with Elvis vocal training, they more than likely told him to slow DOWN in his speech, and I think it just stuck? 🤷🏾‍♀️

Elvis was from Tupelo, Mississippi. The DEEP south. 😅 People from the south are more laid back, and they don't talk all fast and high-strung like people from the big cities or up north do. 😂

But other than those MINOR things, his adult voice really hasn't changed that much y'all lol. 😅

[liminalhymnal]

THEY'RE REMAKING THE CROW?! Let Brandon Lee fucking rest....shit.

YEAH THEY ARE like, okay. Allow me to be a Hater for a sec:

Rupert Sanders (Director of Ghost in The Shell & Snow White and The Huntsman) is doing it so you can already see the quality as mid. Then they're casting Bill Skarsgard as the Crow (The new Pennywise guy I believe) and like....christ. Look at this.

This is the new Crow. This. Brandon Lee literally died for his movie and this is what Hollywood decides is the right move to make. It's like seeing a loved one get necromanced and come back all fucked-up and wrong. They tried to cast goddamn Jason Mamoa as the Crow first apparently. And on top of that I read that the inspiration for this look was based on goddamn....POST MALONE AND LIL' PEEP. NO GOTHS ALLOWED ANYMORE.

THIS AIN'T THE CROW; THIS IS JUST SOME GUY WHO SELLS SHITTY K AT A BATMAN-THEMED RAVE IN MIAMI. Look at that face tat where his nipple is the eye. Come on. That's just silly. Those tats aren't even cool, they look like he got temporary ones from Spencers after trying to give himself a haircut in the dark while smoking brick and talking about his Soundcloud game. This look tells me that they aren't even gonna keep THE defining opening scene where Burn by the Cure kicks in and its so so good. The director acknowledged how important this movie was to the goth scene and yet he went with fucking Post Malone as an inspiration?

Rochelle Davis (Sarah in the original) thinks its a disgrace to Brandon Lee and I gotta agree. The vibe is gonna be Gritty Reboot levels and they already have a trilogy planned, so I'm convinced that they are gonna Marvel-ize him into the new Punisher/John Wick or some shit to pump out that sweet merch money.

I have no doubt that this remake is gonna be shittier than a gas explosion in a porta-potty. Idk if the Superman Curse really exists but if it does I hope a similar one makes this movie untouchable by greedy hands

[bubbleonice]

lmao, for the dude who said Bill was arrested. It was marijuana which was for his friend and Bill didn't go to jail, he paid 3k dollars fine and that was it, everything is finished now. Why you guys twist everything? It was also said that Bill doesn't use any drugs. He doesn't even smoke cigarettes 😒

I don’t know what happened. I have not read the story. So please do not accuse me of twisting anything around. This is also a tarotreading space, not a fanpage for Bill Skarsgard.

Even as a person from the outside, I know he smokes cigarettes at the very least. But, please take this discussion somewhere else.

[strawberryloveyyy]

Okay. So I'm just watching behind the scenes videos of it chapter two, and there's this part of bill skarsgard just doing the pennywise voice, and it made me realize that pennywise just sounds like winny the pooh if winnie the pooh smokes. And also just listened to again, and it's just scooby-doo now.

[wanderingpages]

Lmaooo I been fucking w Roman era bill skarsgard since u said so from the start lol the gif set of the teddy bear and him on the carousel, when u wrote the oak and Jude carnival fic??? Chef kiss and then that random time u were like the exhibition fic is Anna de armis and bill skarsgard lmaooooooo and like shit w him smoking and all the blood like bro that our dark cardan on god. Him in a suit?? Ceo cardan idk. Him snorting lines in the bathroom?? Rockstar cardan probably at some point. And come on …,… “it’s a shame your my sister” as he proceeds to fuck her 😭😭😭 gentle sins I’m waiting for u

LMAOOOO THE ANA DE ARMAS ONE 😭😭😭

[demidevildiva]

welcome to marina, SEBASTIAN HOLM ( male, him/he ) ! they are a 31 year old who has lived over on PROSPET HILL for HIS ENTIRE LIFE and works as a FARMER. everyone says they look a lot like BILL SKARSGARD. what do you think? —

Name: Sebastian Holm Gender: Male, him/he Age: 31 years old Sexuality: Pansexual Occupation: Local Farmer Neighborhood: Prospect Hill D.O.B: August 9th Height: 6'4" Body: Tall, Slim Hair: Black Eyes: Green Definable Marks:

Character Summary:

Bash can be seen as rather awkward and quiet to strangers. He doesn’t go out of his way to speak his mind much, but loves to make friends. To his friends he is nothing but loving. Providing them comfort in any way that he knows how, but also being blunt with them when needed. He can be a bit naïve at times, and nervous if anyone becomes confrontational with him. He’s just out here living his best life, and that doesn’t include arguing or fighting with people who don’t agree with his thoughts and believes. He loves to have a good time drinking, smoking, and running his motorcycle around town. He is a local farmer and loves farm talk.

Intro:

Sebastian was born to two loving parents who would do anything for him. They struggled a lot in their lifetime from having had ran away as teenagers and being homeless for half of their lives. It wasn’t until they became pregnant with Bash that his parents decided to turn their lives around. They contacted a relative in Marina that allowed them to live in their farm free of charge as long as they worked the land and sold produce and meats. Pork, chickens, eggs, milk, honey, you name it. They raised and sold it all to local businesses as well as opened up their own booth in the farmers market.

From a very young age his father taught him to work the land with him as well as teaching him how to cut, pack, and and sell all of their meats. Bash could be seen around the island dragging a wagon packed with produce to go sell from home to home as well as park himself outside businesses to sell to bystanders.

When he was around nine his parents welcomed a new baby into the home, a little girl, and Bash hated it. He became scared and jealous that his parents wouldn’t love him the same, and that he’d have to share their love so he began having nightmares and wetting the bed. His jealousy only pushed him to work harder so that he cold become the pride and joy of his family forever.

By the age of thirteen he had learned how to do everything and even was allowed to ride the tractor. His relationship with his little sister was nonexistent as he avoided her at all cost. Erasing her from his head like she was never truly born, but she was always bugging him. It had all been an accident. She wouldn’t leave him alone while he worked, and he pushed her, causing her to fall and hurt herself. He hadn’t meant to harm her, but his parents didn’t listen.

For the next two years Bash was punished by sleeping in the barn Not on the daily, but whenever he stepped out of line. So he made sure that he never did again. Working hard to gain his parents love back, and make them proud. He dropped out of high school in his junior year and getting his GED to focus more on the farm.

His entire life he had spent working to make his farm one of the most profitable in town, and so far he had done an amazing job. His farm provided to almost all businesses in the island, hyper focusing on the restaurants and the super markets because that’s where most of the money came from.

Over the years his family wanted to leave the island and so Sebastian stayed behind on his own. This has been the only home that he knew and he didn't really care for what else was out there in the world. He chose to stay behind and continue farming.

Headcanons:

tba

Wanted Connections

tba

[benjaminodell]

Welcome to Aurora Bay, [BENJAMIN O'DELL]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [BILL SKARSGARD]. You must be the [TWENTY EIGHT] year old [WAITER AT NEPTUNE]. Word is you’re [WARM] but can also be a bit [ABSENT MINDED] and your favorite song is [CONSTANT HEADACHE BY JOYCE MANOR]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [OCEAN CREST APARTMENTS]. I’m sure you’ll love it! 

Basic Information

Full Name: Benjamin ‘Ben’ O’Dell

Age: 28

Date of Birth: April 3rd, 1994

Zodiac: Aries ☀, Capricorn ☾, Aquarius ↑

Hometown: North Caldwell, NJ

Gender: Cis Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Orientation: Heterosexual

Occupation: Waiter at Neptune

Family: 

Melissa O’Dell - Mother James O’Dell - Father Courtney O’Dell - Older Sister UTP O’Dell - Younger Brother

Headcannons

Has a cat named Squish that he loves very dearly

Lives like a frat boy ninga turtle - red bull, beer, cigarettes, and take out pizza

Has odd sleeping habits. Somedays he’s up till 5am other days he’s in bed at 11pm

Working on getting a tattoo sleeve done on left arm, it’s mostly done.

Knows all the bad movies on Netflix

NEVER HAS GROCERIES IN HIS HOME

Has a thick Jersey accent

Tells people his parents named after Ben by Michael Jackson because the song is about a rat. His mother HATES that he tells people this and makes sure people know that he was actually named after his grandfather. 

Thinks he’s good at pranks- he is not.

Biography 

(tw: drugs, substance abuse, alcohol, hospitalization, near overdose, violence)

Benjamin Odell, better known as just Ben, has always had trouble following him. Ever since he was a little boy he try to eat his toys, or paint the walls with finger paints. His parents had a hard time keeping up with him, and his two other siblings. Most would say his family was pretty normal, they went to church on Sundays, had a family dinner every night, the kids went to public schools, and the parents worked 9 to 5 jobs. Around his fourteenth birthday Benjamin decided he would be called just Ben, and started to act out. 

Ben would start fights with his classmates just because he could, and would bum cigarettes off his older friends. As the rest of his family arrived home from church, he would be coming home from whatever party he went to on Saturday night.

As a freshman in high school, Ben started to befriend some of his older classmates, and he started to notice women. One girl in particular always caught his attention. Her name was Heather. She had a deep passion for music. In order to get her attention Ben joined his school’s band. He signed up to play percussion because it seemed to be the coolest instrument. He was really bad at first, but soon he would get the hang of it. After beating some drums for a few months, music became something he was also very passionate about, getting his crush’s attention was also an extra perk.

Once he gained enough confidence he asked Heather out, and she agreed to a date. The first date was successful, and in a few months the two became an inseparable pair. It was a classic good girl goes for the bad guy situation. She would watch him get into fist fights, and he would clean up when he was invited to dinner with her family. 

As freshman year ended, and summer started Ben found a lot of free time on his hands. Ideally, he wanted to spend time with his girlfriend Heather, but her family decided to send her to band camp for the summer. Ben spent most of that summer with his friends.

That same summer on a hot July night he was invited to a party thrown by a couple of upperclassmen. Before this Ben only smoked a few cigarettes a day, but now he was exposed to booze and an assortment of drugs. He had a couple of beers and a few hits from a joint, and stayed away from some of the harder drugs his friends were doing. As he went to more of these parties he became more adventurous. 

  When Heather returned home from band camp, they spent the entire week together. He started bringing her to his summer parties. By the end of the night he would be completely inebriated from whatever drugs he chose to do that night, and Heather would have to make sure he got home in one piece. Once school started again, the parties seemed to simmer down, and the pair started to focus on music again. 

Ben and Heather were a strong couple for all of high school, until the end of senior year. Heather was going to college, and Ben was not. Heather broke things off, the week before she left. Ben wasn’t expecting the redhead to break up with him, it hit him like a truck. The fall after graduation was hard, he started drinking more, and hooked up with whomever he could. Ben was starting to fall off the edge, and was simply waiting for the last thing to push him over. 

When Ben was 20 his older sister, Courtney, was engaged to her long term boyfriend. Ben was happy to see her be with someone she loved, but he always felt off about her fiance. One day when they were visiting, they had the house to themselves. Ben walked into one of their fights, they were both yelling at full volume, and didn’t notice Ben coming home. He didn’t think much of the fight until he heard a thud, and his sister screaming. Thanks to his quick thinking, Ben found his younger brother’s baseball bat and started hitting the older man with it until he eventually left. Ben dropped the bat, apologized, and left the house for a few days. He rented a motel room. He got his hands on whatever drugs he could find and nearly overdosed. The only thing he remembers that night was calling Heather. She drove from her university to bring him to the emergency room, and skipped her classes to be with him that day. He was able to leave the hospital within a few days. Right after that he went on another bender. 

Ben’s early twenties were filled with booze, drugs, and sex. He slept with countless women, but never formed any actual relationships with them, he couldn’t after Heather, even years after they broke up. When he wasn’t drunk or high, he spent his time focusing on his music. He dove into learning new instruments. He was able to write a few pieces by himself, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it stuck at home, so he moved out of his home with money he had saved up from his assortment of part time jobs and moved out west to Aurora Bay.

Now, Ben hasn’t kicked any of his bad habits, and he still thinks of Heather from time to time, but for now his focus is on music. He found a band to play in as well for which he plays bass. He lives in his apartment with one cat he rescued, when he was able to gather the finances for one.

[gxldcnboy]

    ⸻     THE OFFICE OF THE MIISTER FOR MAGIC  is  often  somewhere  that  LUCIUS ABRAXAS MALFOY can  be  found  scheming and  charming ,  the  thirty year old  that's  often  confused  for  bill skarsgard  is  known  for  being  AMBITIOUS  ,  but  maybe  that's  why  the  sorting  hat  had  them  in  SLYTHERIN  while  in  school  ,  but  they  can  still  be  very  CRUEL  according  to  their  friends  .  currently  they  are  WORKING  as  JUNIOR MEMBER at  THE  WIZENGAMONT and  if  rumors  are  said  to  be  true  about  the  brewing  war  ,  they  would  surely  side  with VOLDEMORT    .     ⸻     (  cismale  +  he/him  +  chaotic bisexual.  )

ORIGINS & FAMILY: Name: Lucius Abraxas Malfoy Nicknames:  Luc ( at your own risk ) Birthday: August 3, 1950 Place of Birth: Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England Places Lived Since: Hogwarts, gallivanting about Europe Current Residence: Townhouse in London Notable Family Members: Abraxas Malfoy ( father ); Celine Malfoy ( mother, deceased )

PHYSICAL: Faceclaim: Bill Skarsgård Height: 6’4 Build: athletic Hair Color: dirty blonde Eye Color: green Jewelry? Tattoos? Piercings?: Malfoy signet ring, several hidden tattoos, no piercings Unique Mannerisms/Physical Habits: messing with his ring, smoking when he’s stressed, charm and manipulation

PERSONALITY: Occupation: Junior Member at the Wizengamot Affiliation: the Dark Lord Languages Spoken: English, French, Latin, Ancient Greek Positive Traits: charming, ambitious, meticulous, devoted, clever Negative Traits: manipulative, cruel, arrogant, selfish, harsh Likes: the hours just before sunrise, black coffee, challenges, a well-aged scotch Dislikes: being lied to, places that lack history, feeling out of control, nicknames Aesthetic: the inherent hubris of being young, wealthy, and powerful; this house is not haunted – you are; physical intimacy like a drug—only this touch makes you feel real, feel something; ancient archives full of dusty, heavy magic and lore; a face crafted for tragedy; oh golden boy, don’t act like you were kind, you were awful every time.

HISTORY :

ONE:

Your father is not a kind man, not by any sense of the word. He is not a good man, nor a good father, he has never been affectionate or encouraging, never saw you as anything more than a pawn for his own political gain. That golden boy, that perfect child – how could you be anything but a disappointment the very first time you expressed an opinion that was completely your own? You have your mother’s eyes, and he hates you for this – that woman he loved and killed with his relentless pursuit of power.

Being a Malfoy wasn’t enough for him, and maybe that was something driven into him by his own father – you never knew your grandfather and once might have been soft enough to feel something. It was enough for you, once. You loved these haunted halls, the sloping lawns, and misty twisty hedges – back when you still idolized your father, regardless of his faults.

Oh golden boy – don’t act like you were ever innocent. But then, you have always been a sucker, a masochist. And he has crafted you into his own image, nurtured that latent cruelty you once feared, gave you an outlet, and a purpose. Your father thinks you are a weapon to be aimed at his will, but you alone know what this cost; and what you are willing to risk for a taste of power and influence. Besides, he’s old now, his memory is failing….

TWO:

“What was the first bit of magic you ever performed?”  She laughs, moonlight floating through the open window, illuminating curves and curls. “I’m serious,” you press, that slow smirk tugging at your lips. “What is the very first magic you did -- not in school, not under controlled circumstances, but the very first time?”

“Hm,” she sits up, reaching for the glass of cognac you abandoned earlier in the evening and takes a sip. She’s gorgeous, the wife of a much older French Ministry official whom your father has send you here to learn from. “My grandfather has a vineyard in the Loire valley, do you know of it?” You nod but say nothing. “They say – I was too young to really remember it you see – that I made an entire field of vines burst into bloom in the middle winter!” She laughs, it's a beautiful melodic sound. “Why? Why does it matter?”

“And have you ever been able to replicate it? Something that powerful and spontaneous?”

She seems to wilt under the intensity of your gaze, a decorative ornament pressed beyond their purpose. You’re already pulling away, reaching for a cigarette which you light in a bit of wandless magic that’s more for show than actually impressive.

“Lucius, why would I ever need to worry about agricultural magic?”

“Obviously that’s not what I meant,” she hears the slightest edge in your voice and does not continue. You should tell her to leave, you’ve both gotten all you can from the other person, why linger over philosophical musings? But you’re still young, still foolish enough to mistake clever smiles and quick remarks for actual substances – or maybe you’re just too stubborn to not make your point, so you press on.

“It's not about the specifics of what you did, it's about the power and sheer will behind this first rush of magic. How can children so easily achieve something that for grown wizards requires years of study and practice?”

She laughs again, and you realize you would quickly come to find the sound annoying. Your gaze turns icy.

“The infamous Lucius Malfoy, a secret scholar and philosopher? Who would have ever thought?”

She’s trying to draw you back in, hands drifting across your chest and reaching for the cigarette. But you’re already gone, plotting your escape and spinning a web of lies and possible blackmail – insurance, should she decide to get angry and make a scene. You’ve always had a talent for self-preservation, even as the Malfoy name seems naturally imbued with a shield charm – all allegations and rumors easily deflected. Manipulation you learn at your father’s knee, and so you extract yourself from her embrace and walk into the ensuite.

“You should go, I have an early portkey back to London tomorrow.”

[jacksonqz]

welcome to jackson DANIELA, RUBY, BECK, ELIJAH, WESLEY, REED, & AJAX. get some rest -- you have 12 HOURS before your first day on the job. you'll make a fine BOUNTY HUNTER, RADIO OPERATOR, FARMER, & SOLDIER

[ LINDSEY MORGAN ] – have you heard about [ DANIELA MORALES ]? [ SHE/HER ] lives at the qz. I think they’ve lived there for [ TEN MONTHS ]. they’re [ TWENTY EIGHT ] yrs old and seem very [ QUICK WITTED]. i’ve also heard they can be very [ IRRITABLE ] as well. they’ve been assigned as a [ BOUNTY HUNTER ]. they often daydream about [ FRESHLY PICKED FRUIT IN THE MORNING ]. i’m curious to know more. | poppy. est. she/her.

[ SOPHIE THATCHER ] – have you heard about [ RUBY "RUE" COLLINS ]? [ SHE/HER ] lives at the qz. I think they’ve lived there for [ TWO YEARS]. they’re [ TWENTY THREE ] yrs old and seem very [ ADAPTIVE ]. i’ve also heard they can be very [ ECCENTRIC ] as well. they’ve been assigned as a [ RADIO OPERATOR ]. they often daydream about [ WATCHING A THUNDERSTORM ON THE PORCH]. i’m curious to know more. | poppy. est. she/her.

[ SOFIA CARSON ] – have you heard about [ BECK LOPEZ ]? [ SHE/HER ] lives at the qz. I think they’ve lived there for [ ONE MONTH ]. they’re [ TWENTY-FIVE ] yrs old and seem very [ DETERMINED ]. i’ve also heard they can be very [ SNAPPY ] as well. they’ve been assigned as a [ BOUNTY HUNTER ]. they often daydream about [ DANCING IN THE KITCHEN WITH REALLY LOUD MUSIC ]. i’m curious to know more. | jaci. cst. she/her.

[ THEO JAMES ] – have you heard about [ ELIJAH KELLY ]? [ HE/HIM ] lives at the qz. I think they’ve lived there for [ 3 MONTHS ]. they’re [ THIRTY ] yrs old and seem very [ COMPASSIONATE ]. i’ve also heard they can be very [ DISMISSIVE ] as well. they’ve been assigned as a [ SOLDIER ]. they often daydream about [ CIGARETTE SMOKED FILLED LUNGS ]. i’m curious to know more. | j, cst, she/her.

[ JOSHUA BASSETT ] – have you heard about [ WESLEY HUDSON ]? [ HE ] lives at the qz. I think they’ve lived there for [ TWENTY-THREE YEARS ]. they’re [ TWENTY-THREE ] yrs old and seem very [ INTUITIVE ]. i’ve also heard they can be very [ RECKLESS ] as well. they’ve been assigned as a [ RADIO OPERATOR ]. they often daydream about [ BURYING HIS YOUTH IN A CASKET INSIDE OF HIM ]. i’m curious to know more. | four. cst. they/she.

[ CASEY DEIDRICK ] – have you heard about [ REED MORDAN ]? [ HE/HIM ] lives at the qz. I think they’ve lived there for [ TEN YEARS ]. they’re [ THIRTY-THREE ] yrs old and seem very [ PROTECTIVE ]. i’ve also heard they can be very [ CLOSED OFF ] as well. they’ve been assigned as a [ FARMER ]. they often daydream about [ THE SMELL OF SUNDAY MORNING BREAKFAST AT HOME ]. i’m curious to know more. | maddi. est. she/her.

[ BILL SKARSGARD ] – have you heard about [ AJAX ARCHER ]? [ HE/HIM ] lives at the qz. I think they’ve lived there for [ TWO DAYS ]. they’re [ THIRTY ] yrs old and seem very [ ADEPT ]. i’ve also heard they can be very [ DISMISSIVE ] as well. they’ve been assigned as a [ SOLDIER ]. they often daydream about [ BALCONY CIGARETTES AT 2AM, THE CRACKLING OF A WOOD STOVE, DARK CLOTHING - FOLDED NEATLY ]. i’m curious to know more. | kee, ast, she/her.