#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?

[zorromeo]

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.” 

[lokisprettygirl]

Come As You Are (Eric Draven! Bill Skarsgard's Version x Female Reader) (18+) (Slight Au)

Read chapter 2 here

Chapter 3

Summary : Eric wants to push you away but he can't when you look at him like that. You learn the reason behind one of his scars.

Warning: 18+, smut later, Eric is a past drug addict with suicidal tendencies, self harm, use of cuss words, description of claustrophobia, reader is in her early thirties, mention of sexual assault, death and murder, Consumption of alcohol and weed

After you returned from the grocery shopping you saw him leaning against the wall next to his door, smoking a cigarette, right under the smoke alarm. That obviously didn't work. He didn't look like he had been run over by a garbage truck anymore, he seemed freshly showered, his hair was still wet. So wet.

He had put on a simple black t-shirt again. You were starting to think he didn't own many colours.

You shook your head before you placed the bags down on the floor to take out your keys from the pocket of your jeans.

He was expecting you to say something but when you didn't he put the cigarette butt down and then crushed it under his boot, his eyes lingered over your jeans clad ass for a moment before he walked towards you and grabbed your arm to turn you around, the keys fell down from your hand at the sudden gesture.

Wasn't he just screaming at your face asking you to stay away from him? This man had worse mood swings than that of a pregnant lady.

You looked up at him and he was just staring at you with his big green eyes.

“What?” You asked so he took out a small torch looking gadget from his pocket and opened your palm to keep it there. It looked like a keyring.

“Ummmm what is this?” You looked at him confused so he scratched his neck.

“It's a mini taser” he said with such disinterested nonchalance you had to do a double take.

“What?”

“Never heard of a taser?”

“I know what a taser is..but .. what..why are you giving me this?” you asked him, you did appreciate the gift though, especially after that incident in the alley.

“I don't know .. consider it a gift, it was your birthday.. it's not like a cop level taser but it gets the job done, small enough to keep in your pocket, effective enough to have a man want to latch onto his mama’s titties again” he said as he crossed his arms and stared down at you.

“Okay..thanks i guess..you didn't have to get me anything”

He really didn't.

“Well I did..you gave me beer and cake..so a gift for a gift” he spoke, his voice gentle for once. And the super hot kissing session, he forgot to add that.

“I feel like I'll end up tasing myself with this” you said as you looked at it.

“Under what circumstances would that even happen?”

“I don't know..”

He chuckled at the response before he bent down and picked up your keys to give it to you, then he stepped away from you.

“Eric.. about -” you were going to ask him about the blood bath but he cuts you off as if sensing your question already.

“Don't ask questions..I can't tell you anything about what I do” you huffed as he said that.

“That's now how it works with me”

“It doesn't have to ..let's just be good old incurious neighbours to each other” he raised his brows in that annoying smug manner and that only pissed you off further.

“Well then you should know that incurious neighbours don't buy each other gifts” you said as you walked towards him and kept the taser on his palm, that's when you saw the long scar that ran sideways on his palm, on both of them, you hadn't noticed them before. You also saw the self harm scars riddled on his wrist, you didn't need to be told what they were. He regenerated and healed now but those scars from his past life never healed even when he cut over them they healed with them still on his body, as if to always remind him of his past.

“How did you get this?” you asked him, your fingers traced gently over his palm, making him wince in response.

“What did I just say to you about us not being nosy with each other?” you glared at him as he said that.

“Goodnight then” you said as you turned around but he grabbed your arm and pulled you into his chest. He was really pissing you off, so much so that you wanted to kiss him again. Have that feeling of mind numbing euphoria that you had experienced with him last night.

“Will you keep the gift if I tell you about the scar?” He tilted his head as he questioned so you nodded in response.

“Yeah”

He sighed as you said that, you were being so difficult for no reason.

“An accident I had as a child” he answered to shut you up but that wasn't enough obviously.

“Tell me more..What happened?” He gulped as you asked him, he didn't really enjoy thinking about that day,let alone talking about it but the determination on your face made him waver, besides he really did want you to have the taser for your own safety..

“Family had a horse, my mama..she uh sent me to buy stuff for her” he looked away as he spoke, by stuff he meant alcohol that he shouldn't have been asked to buy as a child, he wasn't even looking at you at the moment, this has always been something he didn't like sharing, he had never gotten into much detail about it even to Melody “When I came back from the shop I found him mangled around in the barb wire, he had gotten old, he wasn't supposed to be out.. shouldn't have been out” he looked down as he finished speaking so you followed his gaze, your fingers continued to trace over the scar.

“You tried to free him from the wires..that's how you got these..right?” You asked him softly, when he finally looked at you, you noticed his eyes were moist as if he was relieving the memory of his dying horse. Those tattoos on his back made sense now to you, they were a reminder. Guilt perhaps.

He had given you a peek into his past, a glimpse of his childhood, and you knew that was just the beginning, he was a troubled man but what led him to be this way? So closed off and so guarded? You wanted to learn more about him, read every chapter of his life like a book.

“I'm so sorry that happened to you eric” you mumbled as you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him, your face smushing between his chest. He was taken aback for a moment, not really knowing how to respond, it has been a while since he had been held this way with such warmth. And he despised it. He didn't want to get used to this feeling, it would only bring him pain and hurt, not to forget he couldn't be seen with you, he was on the radar of so many awful people, he might have been invincible now but you weren't.

Despite his heart screaming at him to pull himself away from your clutch he placed his hands behind your head and held you like that for a moment before he pulled your head away from his chest, his fingers went under your chin to make you look up at him.

“Dont make a habit out of this” he spoke, voice gruff and strict like a school teacher.

“Habit out of what?” you feigned innocence.

“Extorting information out of me like this when I'm just trying to be a good neighbour by getting you a birthday gift like a neighbour should”

You didn't say anything but your eyes spoke volume to him. He had a feeling you were going to make a habit out of this. And he had a feeling every time you'd look at him with those soft eyes he'd give in and reveal things about his past that he shouldn't.

“I’ll try Mr Draven.. if you get hungry..I'm making lasagna and like a good neighbour I'm willing to share it with you, it's up to you though..knock anytime..thanks for this again” you said as you grabbed the torch looking taser from his palm and pulled away from him before you turned around to grab your grocery bags to get back in your apartment.

“Yeah well use it” you heard his voice, quiet and mumbly as you closed the door, then you put the bags down and leaned against the door as you breathed in deeply, every time he was close to you, you felt alive in ways you had never felt before, it seemed cliche but that's just how you felt, not to forget how tingly every inch of your being was whenever you were around him, that sensation of his touch, how he smelled, how desperately you wanted to hold him when he looked at you, all of it was creeping up on you from head to toe and it was happening so fast you didn't even know what even was happening to you anymore.

You had a crush on him that you knew, just the mere thought of it felt ridiculous, you should have been married with children by now, that's what everyone tried to tell you, but you couldn't really help how you were starting to feel about him, especially after the way he had kissed you last night and how greatly you had enjoyed it.

After that ridiculously gentle encounter with you Eric sat down in his room with his pencil and paper as he sketched and sketched, it was a picture of you in that dress you had worn last night, been a while he had seen someone so beautiful but so unique at the same time, you were a proper woman to him, a work of art, curves in all the right places but that wasn't what intrigued him about you, it was always those damn eyes that always tried to read through him.

He remembered that night in the alley, you were so terrified, so trapped, he had been onto those assholes and was waiting to catch them in the act, he thought he'd have to rescue you like he had rescued plenty of women from degenerates like them in the past but then you passed out, just dropped unconscious as if a switch had been flipped, he had never met someone who lacked both flight and fight response so tragically.

But there was a moment before you gave up, a fleeting moment when he had seen those terrified eyes of yours, filled with dread and absolute fear, that look stayed with him, he could have just left you somewhere safe and be done with it like had done a plenty of times before but since the moment he saw those eyes of yours, they never left him, they followed him around like a ghost, begging to be saved and protected from the evils of the world.

He could smell the scent of freshly baked lasagna coming from your apartment but he didn't go knock on your door even though his stomach grumbled, he resisted the urge to go see you again.

An hour later you knocked on his door instead, when he opened it, he didn't see you but found a box of lasagna placed on his doorstep with a sticky note attached to it.

‘A Gift for a gift. Try to enjoy it grumps’

“Fuck” he murmured under his breath as he read it, he walked inside his apartment but then he came back out almost immediately, running his fingers through his hair in frustration he finally gave in and knocked on your door.

“Ever been up on the roof?”

He asked so you gave him a sheepish smile.

Ten minutes later both of you were enjoying the lasagna on the rooftop with the view of the..well dump. He offered you his black jacket because it was getting chilly so now he was just shirtless with all his tattoos on display as if the weather didn't affect him at all.

“I have a question” you said as you put the plate to the side after you were done eating.

"Of course you do” he chuckled and then he licked the fork clean before setting down his own plate. Just that simple gesture made you think of obscene things, you couldn't help but clench your thighs to get rid of those pesky sensations.

"How do you decide what tattoos to get?” you asked and watched his face light up for a moment.

“I just get’ em..gotta say though some of these are drug induced errors” you giggled as he said that. So Mrs Bonnie did have some truth to her words about him being an addict.

“Like the nipple eye one?” You asked him, making him smile, god he had a beautiful smile. Why didn't he smile more often?

“Touché.. I actually wanted that, thought it was cool and edgy when I was twenty” you smiled as he said that before a thought began to bother you.

“Do you still take them? Drugs I mean?” His smile faltered momentarily but then he raised his brows up.

“No, don't need them anymore, get my fix in other ways now” he answered truthfully as he winked. Well poking the eyes out of devil worshippers had a different sort of kick to it.

“Well I'm glad you're clean and sober now, does that feel good?” you asked another question.

“It feels alright i guess”

“Did you design these tattoos yourself since you draw and stuff?” you asked sheepishly.

“Snooping around ..were you?”

“Don't blame me, you had it all around your room”

Indeed, he just hoped you hadn't seen the ones that included you.

“Some of them are mine..some of them were done by a dear friend”

“Hmm will I ever see this friend around? All i see is a hoard of ladies” he chuckled as you said that before he looked away.

“You can't..he's dead”

Your smile disappeared as soon as he said that. Good god this man had been through a wringer and you had a feeling you hadn't scratched even the surface yet.

“I’m sorry i keep asking stupid questions” you mumbled softly so he smiled and shook his head.

“You can't help yourself can you, you're so nosy”

“I won't confirm or deny that statement” he chuckled again as you said that. The last time he felt this way was with Melody, though most of their initial relationship was spent in a drugged foggy haze “You can be nosy if you want, ask me about my life..if tomorrow i die mysteriously and cops come over and question you about me, what will you tell them?” you said to him so he glared at you.

“Dont joke about it, it's not funny” he spoke sternly and you realised how unfunny and insensitive you were being after he told you about his dead horse and dead friend in the same day. Was he afraid of losing you to death? You wanted to be completely delusional and think yes. Of course he was afraid of losing you, he had known you for four weeks after all and you had spent most of those days fighting with each other.

“Okay” you said to him before you spoke again “I have another question”

“They never really end do they?” you shook your head as he said that.

“Are we just going to pretend that we didn't kiss last night?” You asked him as you crawled towards him on your fours, your nose almost touching his own as you reached closer.

“Its better this way” he murmured softly.

“Why?”

“Because I said so” he mumbled again.

“Since when am I listening to you?”

“Since now”

His eyes lingered over your lips, you looked good in his clothes he couldn't deny that but he seemed adamant about his decision so you sat back down on your knees to give him some space, as much as you didn't want to.

“Why don't you have a normal boyfriend?” he asked you to get rid of the sudden sexual tension you had created by crawling towards him and asking him about the sin he had committed last night with you.

“By normal you mean someone who doesn't come home drenched in blood?”

“Quit with the sass and answer me” he said as he lit up a cigarette.

“Well men are not interested in me and I'm not interested in them” he scoffed as you answered him.

“I don't believe that for a second, the part about men not being interested in you”

“No I'm serious..I'm thirty two right? In case you didn't know because I look so young”

“Really? Could have fooled me for a teenager” he mocked.

“Right. Anyways..you see men in their twenties are dating women in their twenties and men my age are dating women in their twenties. Men in their late thirties and forties are dating..well can you guess?” You asked him so he gave you a smile. Cute wasn't something he often used for a woman but he did find you cute when you seemed so animated “Yes that is correct.. they're dating women in their twenties because they can” you finished even though he hadn't really guessed or given any response to you “So my options are eighteen year old boys who for some reason keep hitting on me and or fifty year old married men with children and I'm not interested in any of that” he let out a snicker as you said that. Prettiest women often had the most ridiculous insecurities.

“Wow, you speak of yourself as if you're decaying, you're barely in your thirties, I'm sure men your age want to date you but you shoot them down as soon as you can”

Well he wasn't really wrong but then it wasn't your fault that you had no interest in dating someone if you didn't want to fuck them. You had done the whole ‘let's date because there's emotional compatibility’ thing and regretted it because at the end most men are purely sexual creatures.

“I'm a waitress, i promise you there are no prince Harrys lining up for me out there..enough about me.” you said as you grabbed the cigarette from him and took a small drag.

He was so intrigued by your charm that he hadn't realised he was being watched from a distance, someone had been keeping an eye on him.

A link from his past, an enemy he didn't even know existed but was after his blood now and that enemy would do anything to hurt him as much as Eric had hurt him when he killed Vincent Roeg.

Later that night he heard a knock on his door again and he didn't have to guess who it was.

“You forgot your jacket” you said as he opened his door, you had your arms crossed, the jacket still clinging around on your body, he hated the thought of his jacket smelling so sweet like you now, as if he wasn't being tortured enough as it was. He sighed as he placed one of his palms on the frame of the door. He then grabbed the collar of his jacket with his other hand and pulled you closer to him. The moany gasp that left your mouth at the gesture made his cock hard in a second.

“Don't do this to me” he said as he slipped his jacket off your shoulders, the revealing tank top you had on underneath made him drop the jacket right on the floor, he couldn't help but curse profanities under his breath.“Don't fucking do this to me y/n”

“What am I doing Eric?” you asked as you looked up at him,

“Don't play stupid with me, you knew what you were doing when you put this on and knocked on my door” he said as his fingers pulled the strap of your tank top and then gently grazed over your now erect nipples that were straining through the thin fabric of the tank top.

“You're the one touching me” you mumbled, voice completely breathless, you were surprised you were still on your feet somehow and your voice was still intact.

He suddenly had his palm wrapped around your throat as he pushed you against the wall next to the door, the only light coming into his dark apartment was the one from the hallway and they reflected right through his eyes. God he looked dangerous in that moment, dangerous and sexy.

“Don't play games with me sweetheart, doesn't suit you, you look so stupid right now you know that hmm?” he said as his thumb rubbed over your lips, why did he his words turn you on so much when you'd have felt so insulted if it was said by some other man “I'm not the type of man you would ever want or need in your life” he said to you, his voice gruff but there was a hint of passion.

“How do you know what I need or want?” you asked, albeit a bit boldly.

“Oh I don't. And I don't want to know. Honestly what's wrong with you huh? What kind of girl sees a man drenched in blood and instead of turning the other way she willingly crashes into him over and over again” he whispered against your mouth, it took everything to not latch your lips to his own, just so he'd stop talking and kiss you like he was supposed to.

“I lose my damn mind around you” you mumbled as you placed your hand on his wrist.

“That much is evident”

His grip on your throat loosened, not that it was tight enough to hurt to begin with, you were actually enjoying it, you were going to think about it all night long, he then slowly stepped away from you, much to your disappointment.

He was conflicted, a part of him wanted to fuck you and be done with it, perhaps once the mirage is broken you'd stop being so interested in him after that, but then another part of him feared he'd go completely insane if he was to touch you like that, he feared he'd get addicted to keeping you in his bed every night if he had a taste of you.

“I'm trying to keep you safe y/n, you shouldn't get too close to me, it's for your own good” he said to you, hoping for once you'd listen to him.

“Okay” you nodded as he said that, you felt disappointed and embarrassed, but you understood his point, he had lost people before, he had been hurt and perhaps he blamed himself for all of it, that's why he was so guarded and afraid of forming attachments. You weren't very keen on doing so either but there was something about him that made all the rational thoughts go extinct in your head.

That night as Eric finally laid down in his bed, he had a nightmare, a terrible nightmare about that night him and Melody were attacked in his loft, when they killed her right in front of him and he didn't do anything to save her, he just yelled and screamed like the weak pathetic boy he was, the dream was so vivid and then that dream ended up in a sleep paralysis which had him clenching and sweating profusely on his sheets.

When he woke up he felt like he was being suffocated again so he sat up on his bed and placed his head between his palms as he allowed the tears to shed. He had to let them out once in a while or he knew they would just continue to build up until he'd crumble on his knees and he couldn't afford that luxury any longer, he couldn't run towards drugs and live an ignorant blissful life.

Why was he so alone? Why did Melody leave him like that? He wasn't an easy person to love. He knew that very well, but he tried, with Melody he tried so hard to keep her, she died and he felt he had lost her forever but he got the chance to have her back and then she left him, just like that. How could she?

He wiped his tears before he laid down again. After trading his soul he knew he'd never be normal again, he thought doing god's work would lessen some of the guilt he carried but it didn't. Not really.

Melody loved him, he felt her love when they were together but then if she did why didn't he have his soul returned to him the moment he had brought her back?

Kronos told him if there was true love in his destiny his soul would unite with him someday but that didn't happen with her.

The thought of you crossed his mind briefly, why did you stumble upon his life? He had given up on forming human connections until you came along and now you were gently forcing yourself in his life more and more everyday and for once he felt powerless, he knew it would hurt, he knew it would hurt so badly when he'd give into those eyes of yours and would let out his demons in front of you and then just like Melody you'd turn around to walk out on him but a part of him wanted to go through that pain, feel things other than just misery and loneliness.

He wanted to remember what it felt like to be loved again but at the end of the day he knew you didn't deserve someone like him. He knew he'd only endanger your life somehow.

What he didn't know at the moment was that he already had.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Taglist: @m-riaa @erebus-et-eigengrau @peachychyy

[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

[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.”

[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

[crowsofdarkness]

A Fight For Darkness: Chapter Two

-gif not mine. credit to owners-

Pairings: Eric Draven(Bill Skarsgard) x Female!Reader.

Content Warnings: language, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of taking own life, 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

“I’m only going to ask one more time, Y/N. How the hell did you get into the club tonight?” 

Eric’s voice fell on my deaf ears as I continued to stare straight ahead at the peeling paint on the wall, almost in a near catatonic state. My body couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried; not even my toes that were still covered in blood since I kicked them off before my run from those two men. 

I blinked before gazing up towards Eric, who was leaning against the door of the room with his arms crossed over his bare chest. Even in my current state, I looked over the variety of weird tattoos that covered his skin and could feel something inside of me twinge with disgust. 

No, not disgust. Something new for me. 

Arousal?

Typically I wasn't attracted to those kinds of men, my type more on the preppier side. The ones that wore polos and spent their Sunday afternoons at the golf course. 

So why was I currently staring at the hard v-line of his hips, practically drooling over this man? This stranger?  

It’s the shock, I told myself. It had to be the shock of the last ten minutes. I’m not thinking clearly. 

I racked my brain trying to think of an excuse, not wanting to give him the real reason why I was here tonight all the while trying to prove my innocence that I had nothing to do with the two dead bodies in that room. 

One with a slit throat and the other with a bullet hole in their head. 

Blinking away those images, I ran a dry tongue over my lips and let out a staggering breath. 

“I was looking for someone,” I did my best to ignore how shaky my voice sounded. 

Eric raised a brow. “Who?” 

“No one of importance,” my eyes flicked down at my hands, stained with blood. 

I began scratching away at it, opening to rid myself of what I saw.

“How’d you get in tonight?” Eric continued to lean against the door. “I haven’t set out any new invitations in months and this is the first time I’ve seen you here.” 

“Wait,” I looked up at him. “This is your place?” 

“Don’t change the subject. How did you get an invite?” Eric asked again through thin slits of his eyes. 

“Uh,” I began rubbing my palms on my bare thighs, hoping maybe that action would wipe away the dry blood. “Someone sent it to me.” 

It wasn’t a complete lie. 

I was still telling the truth while not divulging too much into my true motives for showing up tonight. That should keep Eric happy enough to let me go. 

“Who?” His deep voice questioned. 

Shit. 

“I don’t know,” I sighed, still rubbing my palms on my thighs. 

Up and down. 

Up. 

Down. 

Just as Eric was about to ask yet another question, there was a rapid knocking on the door. 

“Not now!” He called back. 

“Boss! You need to come see this!” A worried voice said. 

Eric grumbled a spew of curses under his breath before taking three wide strides over towards me, yanking my body off of the couch. His grip on my elbow was fierce, his fingers digging into my skin. 

“What are you doing?” I demanded, my heart nearly bursting out of my chest in fear so I dug my feet into the ground. “Let me go!” 

“I don’t know who you are or why you were here in the first place. Do you really think I’d let you walk around my club unsupervised?” Eric whirled his head towards me with dark eyes. “For all I know, you could have killed those two people.” 

“I didn’t!” I said, shaking my head violently with wide eyes. “I promise! I just walked into the room by accident. I was trying to find the way out!” 

Eric cocked his head to the side with an assessing gaze. It lingered over my face for longer than I deemed necessary yet when his eyes watched the way my throat bobbed, something fluttered deep within my gut. 

“Was that before or after you killed someone?” 

Before I could protest again, someone pounded on the door causing Eric to continue dragging me out of the room. It was so fast, I hadn't had time to see if the man that was leading us through the now empty fight club was the same man I’d run into before; the one that was chasing me. 

People were working on cleaning up the fight cage, scrubbing out the blood from the mat, while others were sweeping up the trash that littered the floor. It felt sticky under my bare feet and internally I cringed at how gross this entire place was. 

Surely there was no way my sister would be involved in some place like this. 

The second we stepped, well more like Eric dragged me through the threshold of the room, I took in sight of the two dead bodies now in better light. My stomach dropped out of my ass and bile rising in my throat. 

It was so much worse than I thought. 

The woman who had her throat slit also had bruises covering her body while the man on the floor not only had the bullet hole in his head but all of his fingertips were cut off. 

“Oh god,” I ripped myself from Eric's grasp to hunch over on my knees, emptying my stomach all over the floor. 

Eric made a noise that sounded a mix between disgust and annoyance as he watched me continue to lose my stomach contents. Eventually when all I could throw up was air, he let out a sigh. 

“I’m going to guess that you didn’t kill these two.” 

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before slowly rising back to full height. “What gave it away?” 

Something like a smile pulled at his lips but he refused to let it show and instead, motioned towards the two bodies behind me. 

“Do you know them?” 

Refusing to look, I shook my head. “No. I’ve never seen them before. I stumbled in here when I was looking for the way out.”

“Did anyone see you in here?” Eric asked. 

My lips parted but I hesitated, not knowing if it was a good idea to let him know. 

“Don’t bother lying. When you barged into my office it looked like you were running from something,” he noted. 

Letting out a shaky breath, I nodded. “Two guys but I didn’t get a good look at their faces because of how dark it was in here. The only light that was one was the one above the bed.” 

Now, there was a brighter light on, illuminating the entire space. 

Eric scratched at his bare chest, staring at me for a long moment, and I felt myself becoming small underneath his intense gaze. But it wasn’t only that. I found myself feeling that unknown feeling again, like earlier. Something fluttered low in my gut, a warmth spreading through my veins, and I shifted on my bare feet when they stuck to the nasty floor. 

He must have noticed how not only gross I looked but the mess surrounding us as well because he turned to one of the guys in the room with us; one of his guards. 

“Did we get an I.D on these two?” 

The shorter one nodded towards the girl. “Some hooker.” 

I sliced my eyes into him. “That’s not nice.” 

“If you expect me to care about some drugged up hooker, you’re fucking crazy,” the guard took a step towards me. 

Eric was quick to step in his path, blocking him from me. “Watch it, Greg.” 

The guard, Greg, clenched his jaw. “You don’t know who this broad is, Eric. She shows up in your office covered in blood. For all we know, she could have killed these two.”

“Did you not see me throw up all over the place?” I pointed to the ground. 

“That doesn’t mean-.” 

Greg began but Eric held up a hand to silence him, the muscles in his back tensing. 

“Who is the guy?” He asked, changing the subject. 

“That’s where shit gets interesting,” Greg ran a hand over his jaw. “Alexi Sokolov.” 

Eric somehow even went more tense in the shoulders as his head snapped over towards me. “You’ve never seen these two before?” 

“I already told you, no,” I shook my head with narrowed eyes. “Should I?” 

“Alexi is, well was the leader of the Russian mob here in the city. He frequented my fight club a few times,” Eric ran a hand through his short hair. “And that doesnt help narrow down the list on who killed these two.” 

My blood ran cold and skin clammy as I thought back to the two men I ran from. Could I have stumbled into something more than just a simple murder while looking for my sister? Could the Russians be involved in my sister's disappearance?

The task of finding my sister was becoming more daunting and I suddenly questioned if I could do it on my own. 

“I need to get out of here,” I muttered more so to myself. 

I made it all of two steps before Eric’s large frame blocked the doorway. 

“You’re not leaving until I know for a fact you’re not linked to these two,” he crossed his arms over his chest. 

Scolding myself for letting my gaze linger on his thick arms, I narrowed my eyes up at him. 

“I already told you. I don’t know them,” I said through gritted teeth. 

“Until my guys finish running a background check on you, you’re not going anywhere. Especially like that,” Eric nodded towards the dried blood covering me. 

“Did you say you’re running a background check on me?” I nearly yelled. 

He shrugged. “I don’t know you and you still won’t tell me how you got in tonight. So you could save us all the trouble and just tell the truth.”

“Are you going to let me go if I do?” 

Even though my head was held high and eyes were narrowed at him, my voice shook with undeniable fear. 

Eric’s eyes raked over my body, a smug smile on his face. “Depends on what you tell me.”

Gnawing on my bottom lip, I glanced around the room at Eric’s guards who were busy cleaning up; dragging the bodies away and scrubbing the floor with bleach. The severity of what exactly happened tonight was beginning to bury itself deep inside of my bones, the fear making me sick to my stomach again. I could feel the bile rising in my throat again so I swallowed a few times in an effort to keep it down. 

“I don’t know you,” I finally spoke while looking back at Eric. “How do I know you won’t kill me?”

“If I wanted to, you would have been dropped dead on the floor the second you stepped foot into my office,” Eric answered without an ounce of remorse. 

I blinked, mouth agape. “You-you kill people?” 

Eric stood unmoving in front of me, a thick wall of muscles, and his silence was the answer to my question. My palms began to sweat and I took a step away from him, all the blood draining from my veins. 

“I’m leaving,” my voice was meek. 

“No you’re not. Not until you tell me what you were doing in my club,” Eric grunted. 

Not even giving me more than a few seconds, his grip was tight around my elbow as he all but dragged me out of the room and towards his office. 

“Let me go!” I yelled while digging my heels into the ground. 

“And have you run off? I don’t think so,” Eric snorted. 

As we neared his office, he was about to toss me inside when someone else appeared in the doorway making Eric curse and putting me behind him. Due to his height, I couldn’t see over his shoulder so I peered around his shoulder to see a leggy blonde leaning against the doorframe, dark red lips pulled up in a smile. 

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you for our celebratory fuck because of your win tonight!” 

I internally frowned at the feeling that festered low in my gut. It was unfamiliar but began to burn when she took a step towards Eric, which in turn made him take one away, bringing me along with him. 

“How’d you get in, Lindsey? I have you blacklisted ” He said, voice clipped. 

The blonde rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you blacklisted me over a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?” Eric’s shoulders tensed. “I caught you snooping through my computer and you proceeded to lie to me when I confronted you about it.”

“You think you saw me,” Lindsey held up a finger. 

“I have you on video surveillance,” he replied bluntly.

That seemed to shut her up as Lindsey crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I wanted to see you. So what do you say when we head back to my place?” 

Eric’s grip had loosened around my elbow while he was talking so I took it as my opportunity to quietly slip away, doing my best to ignore the stupid and annoying feeling stabbing my gut. 

Why the hell was I jealous? I had no right to be. I didn’t know her or Eric. 

I only made it a few steps before Eric’s hand shot out to grab at the nape of my neck, yanking me back to him. 

“Nice try,” he breathed against the shell of my ear. 

“You seem busy,” I said, ignoring the way my body ignited with a blaze from his grip on the back of my neck. “I don’t want to get in the way of your booty call.”

Something flickered in his dark eyes. “Are you jealous? Want me to bend you over and fuck your tight cunt instead?” 

I swallowed thickly when my core ached at his vulgar words. Never in my life had a man talked to me this way before. So why was I so turned on by it? 

“You’re disgusting,” I tried to fight against him which only made him tighten his grip on the back of my neck, yanking me towards his chest. 

I glanced up at him with my best pissed off expression as nipples brushed over his bare chest through the thin material of my dress. I bit the inside of my cheek at how good it felt, not wanting to let the moan slip from my clenched lips. 

“You didn’t say no,” he said with a smirk. 

“Did you want to?” I blurted. 

What the fuck? Why did I ask him that? I didn’t care to know if he wanted to fuck me or not.

Eric’s eyes flicked up and down over my body again. “Tempting. I must say, the dried blood on your skin is making my cock hard.”

“Can I please go home? I just want to leave,” I begged quietly, changing the subject away from the images of him bending over. 

Truth be told, I was exhausted. I had no idea what time it was and wanted nothing more than to crawl into my bed in hopes of forgetting everything that happened. Also, the earlier revelation that Eric may have killed people made me want to run far away, never looking back.

“Stop fucking asking that,” he muttered under his breath while dragging me back towards his office where Lindsey continued to lean against the doorway; her eyes flaring when she noticed me. 

“Who’s this?” 

“Get the fuck out of here, Lindsey,” Eric demanded and wrenched her out of the way. 

Her protests were hushed by him slamming the door in her face before he swung on his heels, pointing a finger at his couch. 

“Sit.” 

“Fuck you,” I snarled. 

Something flickered in Eric’s eyes as his upper lip twitched but instead of saying anything, he forced me to sit on the couch ignoring my protests. 

Like previously, I sat on the couch while he sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. His thighs were spread wide on either side of my closed legs, almost as if he was blocking me in. Eric was still shirtless and I forced myself to keep my eyes on his, not wanting to get caught taking in the sight of his abs. 

He doesn't have a six pack. That man has an eight pack. 

Scolding my inner thoughts, I played with the ends of my dirty dress. 

“So,” Eric’s deep voice broke through the quiet. “How did you get an invite to my fight club?” 

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, contemplating whether or not to lie to him but knew that in the end, the only way I was getting out of here was giving Eric what he wanted. 

Not everything. 

“Uh,” I cleared my throat while sitting up straighter. “Some unknown number texted me with the address and a picture of a bloody crow.” 

Eric hummed. “The Bloody Crow invite. Only specific people on the list get that invite.”

“Do you think you could figure out who sent it?” I asked. 

“The list is over two hundred people long.” 

Not knowing what to say, I nodded. I’d been curious as to who sent me the text earlier today. There were only two people who knew about my search for my sister and that was my dad who was dead; he killed himself shortly after my sister went missing so unless he was contacting me from beyond the grave, it wasn't him. The other was the detective assigned to my sister's case and something told me he wouldn’t be sending me somewhere where I could find out more info about the case than him. 

“Why did you come here tonight?” Eric asked. 

I hesitated for a beat, not knowing if I could trust him with my search. But maybe if I gave him a little bit of information, he could point me in the right direction. 

“My sister,” I said. 

“I don’t have any female fighters.” 

I shook my head with a sigh. “No, she’s missing. Has been for the last six months and I’ve been looking for answers.” 

Eric’s left brow rose. “Isn’t that a job for the police?” 

I snorted. “The police haven’t done shit. They gave up after a month. Everytime I try to get updates, I’m directed to voicemail after voicemail of cops who could care less. So it’s up to me to find out where she is.”

“What makes you think she’s still alive?” 

My heart sank at Eric’s words. I knew there was always the possibility that my sister would be dead, especially with how long she’s been missing, but I refused to think that. I would find her and when I did, she would be alive. 

“I don’t,” I answered honestly. “But I’m not going to stop looking for her.”

“You think she came here?” Eric asked. 

I let out a long sigh before easing back into the couch. “I doubt it. Illegal underground fighting rings wasn’t something she was into.” 

“Who said I run an illegal establishment?” He asked with a mock hurt tone but then his face turned serious. “Do you have a picture of her? Maybe I can recognize her.” 

My knee brushed up against his, a surge of static flowing through me, but I ignored it. 

“How can I trust you? You could lie to me just to throw me off course,” I said with furrowed brows. “I don’t even know you.”

Eric scratched at the tattoos on his chest and shrugged. “That’s right, you don’t. And I don’t know you. But you stumbled into my fightclub. Someone sent you an invite for a reason. Which means one of two things. Either it wasn’t meant for you or I have a mole inside my club.”

“The text said I could find answers for my missing sister here so I think it was meant for me.” 

“Well, then it looks like I have a mole,” Eric’s jaw clenched, a vein on the side of his forehead prominent with a deep shade of purple. 

I motioned to my purse that was still on the table next to Eric. “I have a picture of her in my wallet.” 

Once he rifled through my purse to find the picture, he stared at it for a long moment before shaking his head. 

“I’ve never seen her before.” 

“I’m starting to think this was a dead end. Whoever sent me that text did it to throw me off,” I said. 

Silence fell between us, our deep breathing echoing in the room, and I took in the sight of Eric’s office. It wasn’t big by any means, just a desk with a chair, a couch, and a punching bag in the corner. There was a closed door behind the desk to which I assumed was a closet. 

A rough knock sounded on the main door to his office and Eric called over his shoulder. “Come in!”

One of his guards peered his head inside, hesitating when he saw me sitting on the couch. Eric noticed but instead of kicking me out, he nodded towards the guard urging him on. 

“Uh, boss. We reviewed the tapes and we got something.” 

“What did you find?” Eric asked while rising to his feet. 

I didn’t bother to move, only slink further deep into the couch. 

“Ms. Y/L/N was telling the truth. She came alone and as soon as she saw you fighting in the cage, she tried to leave but ended up in the room with the two bodies. She was in there less than two minutes, not enough time to kill them.”

“Told you,” I grumbled under my breath while crossing my arms over my chest. 

Eric glanced down at me. “Did I disgust you that much during my fight?” 

No, not you. 

“I don’t like violence,” I stated with a shrug.

He hummed before looking back at his guard. “What else did you find out?”

“Whoever the two guys that caught here weren’t that slick. While they were chasing her, they ran into direct sight of the cameras. We got a good look at their faces.”

“And?” 

The guard shifted on his feet before running a hand over his face. “It’s bad.” 

“Worse than the head of the Russian mob being murdered in my club?” Eric retorted back. 

“Worse like they are Roeg’s men.”

A slew of curses fell from Eric’s mouth as he rested his hands low on his hips, the black gym shorts he still wore from his fight hanging even lower. He began pacing the length of his office and I watched with slight fear in my eyes, heart beating rapidly. 

“Who’s Roeg?” I dared ask. 

Eric ignored me, turning back to his guard. “How sure are we that they got a good look at, Y/N?”

“They didn’t get a good look at me,” I said. “The room was dark.” 

“Are you positive?” He directed towards me. 

My lips parted to speak but quickly I snapped them shut when I realized I wasn’t entirely sure if those two men actually saw me or not. 

Running a hand through his hair, Eric went over towards the other door in his office and opened it, pulling out a hoodie and a pair of sweats; him obviously keeping extra clothes in there. He tossed them to me with a pointed finger. 

“Get dressed. Leave your bloody clothes here so we can burn them.” 

“Why?” My voice shook as I held the clothes to my chest. “What are you going to do?” 

“Are we clear?” Eric asked his guard. 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We did a full sweep of the building and the grounds outside. Roeg’s men are nowhere in sight. Jackson is reviewing the tapes from the backdoor to see how they got in.”

“Send me the footage as soon as you get it,” Eric said and then grabbed a shirt from the closet, throwing it on. “Didn’t I tell you to get dressed?” 

I slowly stood from the couch, still holding the hoodie and sweats close to my chest. “Why? What’s going on?” 

“You’re leaving. Go home and never come back here.” 

Eric’s words should have elated me, finally being able to go home, yet I continued to stand in front of him unmoving. Something in those bright eyes gave way that he was keeping secrets. 

Instead of arguing, I let out a long sigh and nodded. “Trust me, you’ll never see me here again.”

“Good. You can get dressed in here and one of my guards will walk you to your car.” 

He walked towards the open door of his office, muttering something to the guard, but my voice called after him. 

“What am I supposed to do if one of those guys shows up again?”

Eric paused for a moment, contemplating something in his mind, before stalking back over to his desk and ripped open a drawer. 

“If something happens, call me,” he handed me a card with his number on it but held it back before I could grab it. “This doesn’t mean you can text me asking me what I’m doing or what my favorite color is.” 

Narrowing my eyes, I snatched the card from his hand. “Trust me, Eric. You’re not even my type.” 

Liar. 

Ignoring the voice in my head yet again, I held his gaze for a solid three breaths before he let out an amused noise and turned swiftly on his heels, hating right in the doorway. 

“A piece of advice?” Eric called over his shoulder. “Stop looking into your sister's disappearance. You’re going to get yourself killed.”