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Seasonal Flames - Spring
Shang Tsung x Quan Chi
Masterlist
Summary -
Quan Chi’s eyes bore into Shang’s skull, his intense eye contact making his spouse glance away.
“My soul was yours the moment you looked in my eyes.”
Word Count - 2496
Warnings - none, for now
A/N - this is an A/U based on a song I enjoy :)
Outworld is known to be a place with great wealth, beauty, and knowledge. Its rich history dates back eons. Outworld's capital, Sun Do, is perhaps the most serene place in all the realms. Home to the golden palace that housed Empress Sindel and her daughters, Mileena and Kitana, Sun Do glows with unmatched elegance. One couldn't forget that with Outworld's beauty, comes the pain and suffering of those not fortunate enough to catch the eyes of the Empress herself. Sun Do rests on the backs of citizens who were forced to sculpt every statue, lay every tile, and sew every expensive garment, all while eating scraps and wearing tattered clothes. Shunned by the rich and wealthy, Outworld's poor were scattered along the outskirts of the realm, hidden from outsiders so they wouldn't embarrass the royal family and tarnish the realm's gorgeous reputation.
Outworld’s spring arrives in one such outskirt in unwanted fashion; a thunderstorm cascades upon the timeworn streets of the weathered town, its cobblestones glistening under the heavy rain and tears of the unhoused. Each drop, a melancholic sonnet, whispers secrets of forgotten villagers, only to be drowned out by the rumbling growl of thunder. Here, time dances to the rhythm of the dark weather, a symphony of nature's lament. The town’s insignificant population breathes as a collective – inhabitants all seek refuge from the thunder's booming cadence, retreating into the safety of their homes like ships seeking harbor in the storm. The streets lie deserted, abandoned by the hustle and bustle of daily life. Grumbles come from many homes; angry, the weather forces them to discard the day’s work, further exhausting what little funds they have.
Many houses are dark, the villagers seeing no use in wasting candle wax and firewood – instead using the opportunity to catch up on much needed sleep, or letting the rain drown out blissed out cries shared by lovers. One house stands out, ignoring the rain and choosing to illuminate the immediate area with soft orange light. The fireplace inside roars, but its sound is nothing but a kitten’s meow compared to the lion’s shriek of the thunder. Two hands carefully look over the flames. Tending to a fire involves a delicate dance of care and attention, a ritual as old as time itself. As the flames crackle and flicker, casting their warm glow upon the surroundings, its caretaker approaches with reverence, bearing a long metal rod in hand. With a free hand, he places a small log onto a pile of wood, watching as it immediately darkens. The caretaker leans in close, feeling the heat radiate against his skin. He adjusts the logs, arranging them just so, coaxing the fire to burn brighter, fiercer; asking the heat to warm his face just a bit more. Sparks rise like tiny stars into the air.
“Any closer and your hair will catch fire, Shang Tsung.”
The caretaker – Shang Tsung – turns his head to see his lover, Quan Chi, entering their shared common room; in hand, carrying a teapot and two saucers. He sets them on the floor and sits next to Shang, quickly admiring how the fire’s glow paints over his soft features. Quan Chi expects an eyeroll, a scoff, any negative reaction to his comment, but Shang quietly returns his eyes to the flames, seemingly caught in the fire’s trance.
“Nonsense,” he mutters, just barely shuffling away from the fireplace. “I am not that close.”
Quan Chi lets out an amused huff. He reaches over to Shang and pulls his hair back, gently wrapping it in a ponytail with a shiny black ribbon. Stubborn strands of hair fly away from the ribbon, framing Shang’s face. Quan Chi chooses to ignore them and places a kiss on his lover’s shoulder. “The tea grows cold…”
“Only because you choose to waste your breath on foolish scenarios.” Shang finally pulls away from the fire’s grip, turning his back to the flames and giving his full attention to Quan Chi. He places both hands in his lap and fiddles with the gold band wrapped around his finger. Quan Chi sported a similar band, crafted by him decades prior when he and Shang vowed to spend the rest of their long Edenian lifespans together.
“You are a fool, Shang Tsung, if you consider my concerns to be foolish.” Quan Chi sets teacups in front of himself and Shang and carefully pours an equal amount of black tea in both. “What am I to do if you break your vows to me by carelessly setting yourself aflame?”
“Collect rainwater and douse me,” a quick response – expected from a tongue as sharp as Shang’s.
“You’ll burn to a crisp before a bucket fills halfway. A shame you’ll be the first of us to go.” Quan Chi feigns a sorrowful expression and stares at the ground.
“Quiet down and drink your tea,” Shang hisses in reply, his soft eyes revealing the lack of anger in his words. He picks up his own cup and gently blows the liquid, watching it ripple. Shang’s eye catches a slight rim in the cup. His hand moves the cup to his lips, they slightly spread and allow the tea to fall on his tongue. Indeed, the tea had chilled during their conversation, but it hadn’t cooled enough to make the experience unpleasurable. Its warmth comforted his soul, akin to how the fire warms his skin.
Quan Chi and Shang sit and choose not to speak, instead allowing the booming thunderstorm and roaring fireplace to fill the air. The sounds soothe them both as their bodies wind down, signaling the need for a nap. Their eyes meet, two sets of deep brown irises pooling together and refusing to let go, speaking volumes in the silent language of love. They cradle the delicate porcelain cups and raise them to their lips, taking another sip. Quan Chi’s face suddenly twists into disgust. Shang only raises an eyebrow in curiosity.
“Dull. We are out of honey and without it, my tea is dull.” Quan Chi looks out the window, watching lightning take its anger out on an innocent tree. “I was to make a visit to the markets and purchase another bottle.”
His eyes snap back to his lover when he hears a laugh. “You are not serious.” Another laugh escapes. “Why make tea if you are unable to handle its unadulterated taste? Water, wine…” he trails off. “Yes, we could be enjoying anything else. Why tea?”
Quan Chi slightly shrugs before downing the last of his tea, shivering at the bitter taste. “I was reminded of the day we met.”
Shang tilts his head in confusion and curiosity. “That is sudden.”
"The day our fates intertwined, a century past, within the hallowed halls of the Sun Do teahouse; it rained then, too. Both of us found sanctuary within those ancient walls." Quan Chi’s eyes bore into Shang’s skull, his intense eye contact making his spouse glance away. “My soul was yours the moment you looked in my eyes.”
Shang is silent. The sudden confession brings in a wave of emotions that try to break down his spirit like water rushing a dam. His body aches as his chest tightens and love gnaws at every fiber of his being. Their first meeting was a memory locked deep in his mind, the thought now making him unconsciously play with his wedding ring. “And I will never let it go.”
Quan Chi opens his arms and Shang accepts the invitation, quickly crashing into his beloved. Their hearts soar; beating fast, but beating as one. The fireplace, angry at being forgotten, dies out. The fading glow is replaced with eyes that could only shine when looking at a lover. They lean in, taking each other in a soft, quick kiss. Shang presses a kiss to Quan Chi’s jaw before hiding his face in his lover’s neck. Quan Chi notices the dead fire and hums.
“I suppose this is our cue to clean our mess.”
“Your mess,” Shang yawns, “I was not the one responsible for brewing sentimental tea.”
Quan Chi rolls his eyes before separating himself from Shang, grabbing the teapot and cups before standing. “Go and rest, I will join momentarily.”
Shang only nods in response, slowly lifting his body off the ground and dragging himself to the bedroom. It wasn’t much; a mattress that showed signs of aging, a small dresser that held their clothes, a desk with books Shang’s read three times over, and a pile of dirty laundry that Quan Chi swears he’ll get to soon. Shang collects enough strength to light a candle next to his bed before collapsing into the sheets. He stares at the candle, its fire almost growing taller than the wax itself. He makes a mental note to buy another candle as soon as possible. Shang sees Quan Chi enter their bedroom from the corner of his eye. He yawns, not bothering to look at his husband.
“We will need another very soon.”
Quan Chi could almost laugh. “One fire goes out, so you immediately light another.”
“They please me.”
“Why?”
A shrug; Quan Chi can’t figure out if Shang doesn’t know the answer or if he simply doesn’t feel like giving one. Quan Chi walks over to the bed and lays next to Shang, sighing as he feels his body relax. The two are silent, choosing to listen to the sound of thunder rumbling. Rain beats down on the window like bullets, and yet its sound is able to lull Quan Chi to a half-asleep state. Through heavy eyes he stares at Shang, whose back faces him. He sighs knowing he won’t be able to drag his lover’s eyes away from the burning candle. Quan Chi inches forward just enough to wrap an arm around Shang’s waist. It wasn’t often the two cuddled before bed, Shang complains about Quan Chi being too warm to hold, and Quan Chi complains about Shang moving too much.
As expected, Shang squirms a bit at the sudden contact. “We will both overheat like this.”
Quan Chi slightly lifts his head and blows enough air to kill the candle’s flame. “There,” he closes his eyes and pulls Shang closer to his chest. “The threat of overheating is gone.”
“You know very well that is not what I-”
“Hush. Sleep. Maybe the gods will fill your dreams with arson.”
Shang almost rolls his eyes out of his skull – but is quick to comply. Dreams of sitting by a fireplace doesn’t sound bad.
In the quiet aftermath of the angry thunderstorm, the clear morning comes in peacefully. Outworld’s citizens were slow to resume their usual activities, not wanting to deal with puddles and muddy grounds. Animals dance and celebrate the return of the sun. They sing songs of freedom as they search for their first meal of the day. Through a small window, the sun is able to light the bedroom with a golden hue. The light gently caresses Quan Chi’s face, encouraging him to wake up. He is slow to open his eyes, wishing the darkness the thunderstorm brought would return. His hand reaches up to rub his eyes, shaking the bleariness out. When they refocus on the environment, he realizes the bed is empty. Shang Tsung nowhere to be seen.
Quan Chi groans and lifts the blanket, wincing when the warmth leaves his body. Heavy feet haul his body out the bedroom and in search of his spouse. His first thought is the kitchen, thinking that Shang would most likely be eating breakfast, but finds the room empty upon entering. He sighs and leaves to search somewhere else. Quan Chi walks from room to room – no Shang. He almost panics but stops when he hears a faint voice outside. He walks closer to the entrance, hearing the voice get louder. His hand opens the door to see Shang swaying his body to the beat of an imaginary drum.
Quan Chi can’t place the song that blesses his ears. It was soft and sweet; a pleasant morning gift. He racks his brain to see if he could remember its tune, but each new lyric cements its unfamiliarity. With a breath of joy, Shang sings of spring’s arrival with the chirping birds; his tenor and their soprano blending to create a beautiful harmony. Every note flies and weaves through the air like a gentle breeze. Quan Chi smiles and stays put, it wasn’t often that he got to hear his lover sing.
“Your voice is beautiful,” Quan Chi cuts in as soon as he hears the song fading. He shoots an unapologetic smile when Shang jumps in surprise. Shang saunters over to him and is immediately wrapped in a strong embrace. “Why are you outside so early?”
Shang shakes his left arm, bringing attention to the small bag he had in hand. “I woke up with a troubled mind; I went to the market to soothe my anguish.”
Quan Chi looks at Shang with concern. “Why didn’t you wake me if you were struggling?”
“There was no need,” Shang reaches into the bag to pull out a small item wrapped in protective paper. “Open it.”
Quan Chi takes the item and slowly unwraps it, making sure to be gentle. The paper tears to reveal a porcelain teacup, adorned with gold embellishments. He looks at Shang with a confused expression – only getting an impassive look in return. “Your mind was troubled…and a teacup set you at ease?”
“Last night my cup was chipped. If I didn’t replace it, I would’ve lost my mind.” Shang takes the teacup from Quan Chi and cradles it in his hands, as if he was testing it out. His slender fingers compliment the porcelain well. “I felt broken. This,” he raises the cup so Quan Chi can get a better look at its details, “makes me feel whole again.”
“You are the strangest person in all the realms, Shang Tsung.”
“And that is why you made me yours, Quan Chi,” Shang smirks, walking past Quan Chi and making his way to the door. He hesitates as he goes to open the door. His head turns to his lover, his face hardening.
“Tell me, Quan Chi,” he pauses, thinking how to phrase what he wants to say. “If someday I no longer had this beautiful voice, would you still, even then, love me?”
Quan Chi raises an eyebrow. He, once again, searches Shang’s face for an explanation, an emotion behind his question. When was Shang ever insecure in Quan Chi’s love for him? Did he not show it enough? He walks up to Shang, hand stroking his cheek. He places a kiss on Shang’s temple.
“Of course.” another kiss.
Shang smiles, the positive reply and kiss pleasing him. He finally opens the door and grabs Quan Chi’s hand. “Come,” he says, leading his lover inside, “I will sing for you whilst we make breakfast.”
Quan Chi quickly nods. “I would like that.”
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Snippet of a fic coming sometime next week
Quan Chi and Shang sit and choose not to speak, instead allowing the booming thunderstorm and roaring fireplace to fill the air. The sounds soothe them both as their bodies wind down, signaling the need for a nap. Their eyes meet, two sets of deep brown irises pooling together and refusing to let go, speaking volumes in the silent language of love. They cradle the delicate porcelain cups and raise them to their lips, taking another sip. Quan Chi’s face suddenly twists into disgust. Shang only raises an eyebrow in curiosity.
“Dull. We are out of honey and without it, my tea is dull.” Quan Chi looks out the window, watching lightning take its anger out on an innocent tree. “I was to make a visit to the markets and purchase another bottle.”
His eyes snap back to his lover when he hears a laugh. “You are not serious,” another laugh escapes. “Why make tea if you are unable to handle its unadulterated taste? Water, wine…” he trails off. “Yes, we could be enjoying anything else. Why tea?”
#mortal kombat fanfiction#shang tsung x quan chi#mortal kombat fanfic#shang tsung angst#shang tsung#quan chi
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I now have a Twitter account~
Will be posting updates on this account.
I apologize for a lack of activity on here, I’m working on a long term Liu Kang AU fic (not a self insert). Expect some Tumblr posts this week!
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Quan Chi requests pretty please?
#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat fanfic#mortal kombat headcanons#quan chi x reader
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Be Silent, Sorcerer
Shang Tsung x Quan Chi
Masterlist
Summary - In the garden of Shang Tsung’s soul, where betrayal sews thorns, a delicate bud emerges. Its unexpected bloom opens a new door for his relationship with Quan Chi.
Word Count - 1,828
Warnings - mental breakdowns
A/N - Takes place after Shang Tsung and Quan Chi find out Damashi’s true identity. Also, thanks to my beta reader Eevee :)
“You are the victim of deceit, sorcerer.”
Even after an hour or so, the words keep ringing in his ears. Each time they repeat, they sting just a bit more. Shang sits in the remnants of his laboratory, a place that once represented his wit and cunning, now a burning reminder of his foolishness. Shang’s eyes are dull, his chest tight. His hands reach up to run through his hair, but only add to the frustration when they get caught in tangles. They then fall down, letting out a sound when they collide with his torso.
Shang had to hold his composure as best as he could. He wouldn’t dare to let Liu Kang and his minions witness a moment of weakness. Why give them more leverage than they already had? As soon as there was a moment of downtime, Shang ignored the faces that looked at him with disgust and ran to his lab. Its smell of death and despair was intense, the cries of prisoners enough to rupture the eardrum; neither managed to register in Shang’s mind.
He storms around the lab, finding himself unable to stay in one place. His mind is scattered across the room; attempts to find it are futile. Shang continues to race around the lab to find the last thing that keeps him together. Quills, scrolls, small miscellaneous items are thrown across the room during his search; no dice. The small items are followed by a chair, a lamp, even one of his examination tables. Shang’s face reddens as his hands tremble in grief and exertion. He inhales, exhales, but his breaths are too shaky to calm the frustration that begins to rise in his body.
A small light reflects in the corner of his eye. It’s one of the many beakers used in his tarkat experiments. Many restless nights were spent slaving over his desk, desperate to find a cure. Shang huffs in bitter amusement at the fact he stressed over this disease for, ultimately, no purpose. If only he could go back in time and tell his past self that he was being played. An invisible magnet draws him over to the object, and he gently picks it up. It’s chipped at the rim, presumably from being thrown to the ground. Dainty fingers spread across the beaker, cold and uncaring; they press against it as if he intended to bring harm. Shang’s breath hitches as his eyes close, imagining that his hands were wrapped around the throats of everyone who dared to conspire against him.
Shang is almost deafened by the sudden footsteps he hears. They aren’t too loud, but the reverb of his laboratory heightens his hearing. There is no need to turn and see who dared to interrupt him. He listens as the familiar legs clack against the ground until they stop in front of him.
“Quan Chi,” he simply states, voice laced with ire. Anger they both shared.
Quan Chi hums, seemingly pleased that he was recognised without Shang Tsung having to open his eyes. “I seek peace, solace from today’s events.”
“And you thought to find respite here,” Shang adds.
“Correct.”
Shang finally opens his eyes to fully drink in the image of his friend. Quan Chi stands tall, a few inches above him, and looks relaxed with his arms behind his back. Shang opens his mouth to say something, but the words are lost on him. He decides to not pollute the air with pointless rambling so the two could share a comfortable silence. Shang watches as Quan Chi walks over to a chair he threw earlier. The sorcerer picks it up and sets it upright before sitting down, sighing in relief after being on his feet all day. Shang takes a few steps back, the added distance giving him the courage to speak.
“I pride myself on my keen foresight, yet I was unable to realize we were just pawns.” Shang’s face twists into a disgusting scowl. It’s an expression that is foreign to his normally smug face.
“The wool was pulled over both our eyes, Shang Tsung.”
Shang shakes his head in anger, the emotions from earlier seeping out of his body. His fists clench and he takes a deep breath.
“Liu Kang will pay for the life he cursed me with. He will regret blessing me with mercy.”
Shang looks over at Quan Chi. His friend’s eyes are laced with an unknown emotion. He silently pleads for a response that would give context to Quan Chi’s facial expression but receives nothing. The two men continue to stare at each other, and Shang can only understand the emotion as pity. Whether Quan Chi truly pities him or not is unknown, but it’s the answer Shang decides to create.
One could almost feel the heat rising from Shang’s shoulders. Its smoke pollutes the air, making it thick and hazy. It suffocates, but Quan Chi is used to poor conditions like this; he doesn’t move at all.
“Shang Tsung,” Quan Chi begins. Shang doesn’t react at all – his eyes are too busy burning holes in the ground in front of him.
No response. The air gets thicker and thicker; it would surely kill anyone who walked in. Quan Chi can see Shang’s nails dyed with blood, a result of digging his nails into his palms. Quan Chi stands and eventually makes his way toward his friend. His efforts to grasp Shang’s attention are in vain, it appears as though there is a compelling force redirecting his attention away from Quan Chi.
Curious, Quan Chi grabs Shang’s chin and forces eye contact.
“Not once have I seen you lose control of yourself,” Quan Chi didn’t mean to offend with his observation, but Shang’s jaw tightens as he feels insulted.
“We were promised the world; instead we received humiliation.” Shang’s voice, once strong and confident, sounds weak and sad. “My wish was to share them with you; rule them as one.”
“And I, you,” comes Quan Chi's soft voice, comforting his companion immediately. Whatever emotion Shang felt in Quan Chi’s eyes is gone; it’s replaced with kinder, softer ones. “We – you deserve much more, Shang Tsung.”
Shang tries to look down but a strong hand keeps his head tilted up. Emotions begin to flood the damaged well of his heart. If Quan Chi wasn’t paying attention, he’d miss the signs of the tears’ arrival: fingers gently shaking, blotches of red attacking his pale cheeks, and torment clawing its way out of his chest. Quan Chi doesn’t know what to do, there’s not much he can do; emotions were never his strong suit. Shang pulls away and starts to pace the room. His hands shake more, and eventually a vase that survived his earlier breakdown is thrown against the wall, breaking and falling in sync with fresh tears. Shang chokes back violent sobs as a table is flipped, a window is broken, and a wall is punched. His poised self is well out the broken window, replaced by a man whose eyes are so bloodshot he looks like a beast.
Quan Chi is silent once again. He doesn’t know if he should calm the man who is now pulling at his hair, or allow him to feel his emotions. Shang’s breathing is rapid; one could almost hear his heart beating out of his chest. Quan Chi didn’t think it possible for Shang to hurt this much. He slowly extends his arms out for a hug, not knowing what else to do. Shang rushes over to Quan Chi and collapses in his arms, the sheer force of his weight knocking them both to the ground. He sobs, almost screams into Quan Chi’s shoulder. Shang’s arms hold the man tight; his fingers digging into his companion’s skin. Both are sure that Shang drew blood, but neither cared.
“I am not sure what to do next,” Shang chokes out, burying his face in his friend’s neck. He feels his stomach twisting. He brushes it off as a symptom of his overwhelming emotions, but knows it’s due to being in such close proximity to Quan Chi. He felt his feelings grow for his fellow sorcerer over the last few months but was quick to bury them. It only makes sense that his desire for the man would return with the rest of his emotions.
Quan Chi lets out a deep sigh of agreement. “Neither do I, my friend.” Friend, that word burns Shang’s chest. “But, hear me, Shang Tsung, when I say I shall face any adversary at your side. Forever.”
Shang slowly raises his head to look at Quan Chi. Shang’s face is wet, but the tears are slowing to a stop. Quan Chi’s hand moves to dry his face and huffs in amusement when Shang replaces the tears he dried with fresh ones. The air becomes charged with an unspoken tension as the two find themselves relaxing in each other’s presence. Their breathing, unbeknownst to them, slowly syncs, creating a harmonious rhythm that resonates with the quiet intensity of the moment. There wasn’t much either man could do other than stare into each other’s eyes. They had always been masters of restraint, keeping their feelings guarded like closely held secrets. Tonight, however, something was different.
As they sit in the laboratory, the echoes of Shang’s anger from earlier in the day linger in the air. The conversation since had flowed effortlessly, each word a bridge leading them closer to a place neither had ventured before. Shang can feel his heart beating a little faster, his palms slightly damp as he tries to navigate the uncharted territory of vulnerability.
Quan Chi, usually composed and self-assured, seems equally affected. His eyes start to hold longing, mirroring the emotions Shang had been suppressing for far too long. The unspoken tension simmers beneath the surface, the magnetic pull between them growing stronger with every passing moment.
A gentle breeze sweeps through a broken window, carrying with it a subtle scent of blooming flowers and the promise of change. The atmosphere seems to conspire, urging them to break free from the shackles of their own inhibitions. The ambient noise of the laboratory fades away as they move closer, the space between them diminishing with each heartbeat. Quan Chi could smell a faint hint of sweat on Shang’s body.
His hand stays on Shang’s face, guiding Quan Chi as he goes in to kiss Shang, the latter slightly gasping in surprise at the movement. The kiss was nothing special; clumsy, unsure lips moving against each other, showing that neither man had much experience in the love department. Their sloppy rhythm slows to a stop as they both pull away. Shang feels dazed. The feeling is welcomed after an hour of rage.
“A friend,” he starts, and Quan Chi listens intently. “You call me a friend, but your actions say otherwise.” Shang grins, “I fear you do not understand what a friendship is.”
“Be silent, sorcerer.”
#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat fanfic#shang tsung x quan chi#please don’t let this one flop i’m counting on you all
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Mistletoe - Johnny Cage x gn!reader
Masterlist
Summary - Johnny gives you a Christmas gift.
Word Count - 842
Warnings - not proofread, not my highest quality work
A/N - I wanted to post more this month but life got in the way. ‘Tis the life of little ol’ me. Hurried to get this one out. It’s 11:32 so Christmas isn’t over yet!
The fireplace provided comfort to all that passed by, almost as if it were a blanket. It stands tall, its dancing flames within cast a warm, flickering glow that paints your face in hues of amber and gold. The crackling of burning logs adds a beautiful soundtrack that accompanies the sound of Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas is You blasting from speakers across the room. Loud chattering mixes into the already existing sounds. You listen, the flames in front of you commanding your full attention.
Shoes clacking against the hardwood floor break the trance the fireplace had you in. There’s no need to turn your head to the person who approached you; you already know who it is.
“You outdid yourself with the Christmas decorations this year, Cage,” you say, voice in awe.
“Surprised you even noticed them,” Johnny replies. He takes a spot on the floor next to you before continuing, doing his best to make sure you see how hard he’s rolling his eyes. “You’ve been drawn to this stupid thing since you walked in.”
You finally look at him, confused. “I’ve been paying attention to them!”
“Really? Then you would’ve noticed the stocking I got for you,” he points to a large stocking hanging on the fireplace. It’s a classic red and white stocking, but you notice your first initial stitched into the fabric. How did you not notice that?
“Oh…I somehow didn’t see that. Thank you, Johnny.”
He laughs before taking the stocking off the mantle and throwing it into the fire. Your eyes widen in bewilderment as the fabric melts on top of the logs. “Actually, it belonged to my ex-agent. Hated that guy.”
You let out a small huff of amusement before standing up. “I guess that’s my cue to go walk around.”
“Shit - wait, wait, wait,” he quickly scrambles up to his feet, placing his hands on your shoulders to make sure you don’t move away. You shoot a quick look of curiosity as Johnny grins.
“You’d really think I’d let you walk away without giving you a gift?” his grin shifts into a small smirk.
“Oh! I didn’t expect a gift from you. Where is it?” you look around, as if you’d spot where he presumably hid it.
“Easy there,” he drags out, chuckling, “it’s nothing major, but hopefully you’ll like it…hopefully.”
“You notice how Johnny’s voice got quieter at the end of his sentence, avoiding your gaze for a swift moment. His eyes hold a glint of something negative. Uncertainty? Insecurity? He returns to his normal and lighthearted self before you could fully decipher his emotions. Johnny just pats your shoulder before grabbing your wrist. He leads you outside to his patio, quiet and away from the peering eyes that were likely to ruin this moment for him. Breathing in the fresh air, you feel a slight chill run down your body.
Johnny lets go of your wrist and gains your attention. He takes a deep breath, “close your eyes.”
“Hm? Why?” you hold back a laugh which would let Johnny know that you’re teasing him.
“So I can give you your gift, stupid,” Johnny gives you a massive eye roll, and you laugh as you close your eyes. You hear him shuffling around in his pockets for a quick moment and you wonder just how long you’ll have to keep your eyes closed.
“Alright,” you could almost hear him grin, “open.”
Your eyes flutter open to see Johnny holding a mistletoe in the air. It’s cheap and made of plastic; it would most likely break if he dropped it on the ground. You stare at it, unimpressed, and your expression made him deflate a bit.
He sighs, “look your actual gift won’t be here until next Saturday. I panicked trying to find something nice.”
“And cheap mistletoe was your definition of ‘nice’?” you tease, but you change your tone when you see him cringe at himself. “I - I was just joking.”
Johnny shakes his head, letting you know there was no need to apologize. “Nah, you got me. I just found this in a random box of decorations.”
Silence consumes the two of you - but only for a minute. Johnny’s always been allergic to it.
“My arm’s getting tired here…”
It’s your turn to roll your eyes. You lean over and kiss Johnny on the cheek. A faint, pink tint decorates his face. One that wouldn’t have been noticeable if the dark night wasn’t there to contrast it. He tosses the mistletoe to the ground and cups your face in both his hands. He then leans over to kiss you on the lips. His lips burn more than the fireplace. It could keep you warm for days.
He pulls back just enough for him to breathe and studies each detail of your face. The tender moment is dead when you notice the mistletoe on the ground, missing a leaf. It’s hard to hold back a smile.
“I knew it would break,” you mumble. Johnny shuts you up by kissing you again.
#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat fanfic#mortal kombat 1 fanfiction#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage fluff
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Johnny cradled the velvet box in his hand. In it lay the single most important item he had ever bought: the diamond ring that would, hopefully, symbolize your love for each other. He had scoured at least seven jewelry stores to find a ring you would fall in love with. Hopefully, the one he had chosen would make you happy. Hopefully, he had made you happy.
"You're like an open book!" Johnny recalled you saying to him. He probably smiled and cracked some stupid joke to make you laugh; it's not something he'd remember. During your relationship, he had ripped out the chapters he hated—about his difficult relationship with his dad, his failed past relationships, and his insecurities—neither knowing nor wanting to start a conversation about anything that wasn't "Johnny Cage." Being Jonathan Carlton was a bit too painful.
He didn't want you to read a single page describing how scared he was of this relationship, how he didn't want to mess it up the way he messed up his first marriage. Johnny needed you for the rest of his life; he'd go crazy if he were to lose you.
Johnny knew that it would only be fair to tape the ripped pages back together so you could read his full story. He knew you like the back of his hand, yet you had only seen bits and pieces of his true self.
But dealing with feelings was something he was never taught.
So he decided against proposing today, not ready to face something that scared him more than anything. Johnny hid the box in a closet, behind a few of his clothes. He sighed and walked out of his room to find you.
Maybe another day.
AAAAAA I had an idea for a story and I just had to share a snippet of it. If enough people are interested I’ll write the full thing and have it posted by this weekend. Just lmk if this is an interesting idea!
#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat fanfic#mortal kombat 1 fanfiction#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage angst
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Hello!
Getting back into MK I was wondering how would Kenshi, Johnny and Raiden react if they were told that S/O had gone missing on Mission possible dead, and after a few days their s/o shows up bruised and snapped up but live?
Missing Mission
Masterlist
Warnings: bad injuries, hospitalization, alcohol mentions, not proofread, not my highest quality work
Kenshi
Silent and brooding.
One could practically feel the anger that seeped out his bones. If looks could kill, everyone in Kenshi’s vicinity would be dead; not many would risk their lives by making direct eye contact with him, even though they’re covered in red cloth.
Saying he was pissed off would be a complete understatement. The two of you had been together for about three years now. Kenshi thought of your future together daily - what do you mean it’s being taken away?
In quiet moments alone, Kenshi thinks about where you could be. You must be so scared, so alone, so injured…that is, if you were even alive. He chokes back tears at the pain of not having the closure of knowing what happened to you.
Weeks later, Kenshi’s semi-adjusted to his normal routine. He grieves you daily, but it’s mostly kept inside. He arrives home one day to feel that something’s off; something isn’t right. Sento in hand, he walks through his house, trying to figure out what was happening.
He eventually makes his way to the kitchen where you sat. You nurse a glass of whiskey and smirk.
“Took you long enough to get here. I’ve been waiting all day.”
Kenshi freezes, he doesn’t know if it’s truly you or if this is just some sick joke. You get off the chair you’re in, grunting in pain as your feet hit the ground, and walk over to him. Kenshi knows everything is real when your hand reaches over to caress his face.
He frowns as he feels a bandage wrapped around your hand. His frown morphs into a scowl after he leans over to plant a kiss on your lips, noting how you slightly wince from a small bruise that was planted in the area.
He pulls back and doesn’t know what to say. His breath is a bit shaky and his mind is racing. Words couldn’t explain the anguish of your disappearance, and the joy of your return. Kenshi wishes he could see you again, to be able to get a proper look at your injuries.
Your pain is temporarily ignored when you kiss him again.
Johnny
Uncharacteristically silent. Panic sets in almost immediately. I feel like Johnny would blame himself just a little bit. He already fucked up one relationship, why did he let another slip out his hand? What’s wrong with him?
Days turned into weeks, and Johnny spent each moment wallowing in pity. The pity soon becomes bitterness; no one could recognize who he was becoming.
It’s not long before Johnny forces himself to at least try to return to his normal self. He goes back to being the life of the party, cracking jokes left and right. Though, many notice that his jokes become more dry and lifeless.
He spends a lot of time outside. Home just isn’t the same anymore; it’s devoid of any love and laughter. Johnny only arrives home to sleep, only to feel his heart break once again as he crawls into an empty bed.
A month or two passes before Johnny gets a sudden call. It’s from the hospital, telling him that you’ve been found and-
Nothing else was heard. Johnny immediately raced to the hospital, possibly breaking several traffic laws in the process. Whoops.
He rushes into the hospital and finds your room in record time. Johnny feels his body getting heavier at the sight of you laying in the hospital bed, beaten and bruised. He couldn’t even begin counting the amount of injuries you had. Walking over to your bed and taking your hand in his, Johnny allows a few tears to fall.
You’re home, but you’re not okay.
Raiden
Quan Chi and Shang Tsung had escaped from their prison cells in Sun Do. Liu Kang sent you to Outworld to track them both down. You went alone, as Liu Kang had full faith and your abilities. He also wanted this mission to be completed as quietly as possible; the sorcerers would no doubt flee if they heard many Earthrealm champions were after them.
Your boyfriend didn’t hear about your mission until you already left. Raiden, just coming back from a mission of his own, was a bit upset that he didn’t get the chance to at least say goodbye.
He kept himself busy while waiting for your arrival. He hung out with Kung Lao, ate at Madam Bo’s, and spent time at the Wu Shi Academy. One week, you’d be back in one week. He could handle that.
But a week quickly became a month. Raiden definitely panicked but did his best to ease his own nerves. Lots of deep breathing and redirecting any negative thoughts that try to plague his mind.
Jumps into hero mode when Liu Kang confirms that you’ve truly gone missing. Helps plan an entire rescue mission and plans to find you alone. Liu Kang has to reel Raiden back to make sure he isn’t getting himself into trouble.
Along with a few other allies, Raiden travels to Outworld. He is met by Mileena and Kitana who assist with the search. Millions of thoughts of you being dead run through his mind and he, once again, forces those thoughts away.
The search only lasts for a few days before you’re found near a swamp behind Shang Tsung’s old laboratory. You set up a temporary shelter there so you could nurse your injuries; broken ribs, deep bruises and gashes, and a sprained ankle.
Raiden lets out a huge sigh of relief and rushes over to you. He hugs you as firmly as he can without hurting you more. Raiden looks into your eyes and shows a small smile.
“Just when I thought you were lost forever.”
Mileena and Kitana have you escorted to the palace infirmary where you stay until you’re fully healed. Raiden stays with you the entire time, making sure you never lift a finger.
#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat fanfic#mortal kombat headcanons#mortal kombat 1 fanfiction#kenshi x reader#johnny cage x reader#raiden mk x reader
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Redid my masterlist. Lmk if something is off👍🏽
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Masterlist
Requests are Open
Headcanons
Kung Lao Fluff HCs
Kung Lao + Liu Kang with hula hoop!reader
Kung Lao + Insomniac s/o
Johnny, Kung Lao, and Fujin with cosplayer!s/o
Fujin Fluff HCs
^ Old, Posted Before the Release of MK1 ^
Shang Tsung falling for Johnny’s half sibling
Smoke + princess!reader
General Shao + pregnant!reader
Syzoth, Liu Kang, Smoke, and Raiden reacting to Shang Tsung surrendering to be with his lover
Kenshi cuddling HCs
Parenting - Liu Kang, Syzoth, Shang Tsung, Bi-Han
Parenting pt2 - Rain, Havik, Quan Chi, Kenshi
Johnny Cage + Edenian royal!reader
MK characters at Thanksgiving
I’m Sorry - Johnny Cage, General Shao, Kung Lao
One Shots
Join Me
Quan Chi joins you in the bath.
The Rainy Night
Bi-Han dozes off and dreams about his childhood while his father lays there, dying.
Series
Forgotten Child - Shang Tsung
As Sindel’s forgotten child, no one noticed how the snake wrapped his way around your heart.
Constricting Bonds - Shang Tsung
In the shadowed tapestry of a world where love and darkness entwine, a soul finds itself captivated by the allure of a man steeped in shadows. You, a seeker of light, surrender your heart to a figure whose essence is shrouded in malevolence. As your love blossoms in the moonlit garden of forbidden desires, an impending storm brews on the horizon.
Or - you're upset your father says no to you dating.
#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat fanfic#mortal kombat headcanons#mortal kombat 1 fanfiction#mortal kombat fluff#mortal kombat masterlist#shang tsung x reader#liu kang x reader#kung lao x reader#syzoth x reader#bi han fanfic#bi han x reader#kenshi x reader#fujin mk x reader#Raiden mk x reader
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The Rainy Night - Bi-Han
Masterlist
Characters - Bi-Han, Tomas (Smoke), Kuai Liang, Bi-Han’s parents
Summary - Bi-Han dozes off and dreams about his childhood while his father lays there, dying.
Word Count - 2017
Warnings - Angst, minor character death, sibling jealousy, ED hints, grief, descriptions of dying,
A/N - Wrote this for a good friend of mine. It did not turn out the way I had planned, but I guess that's the beauty of writing, yeah?
If Bi-Han were to think back on his childhood, a majority of his memories would involve his father. Being the eldest son and future Lin Kuei grandmaster meant his father always had a major presence in his life, more so than his younger brothers. Saying every memory was a positive one would be an absolute lie; screaming matches and hidden, frustrated tears - tension only increasing as he entered his teenage and adult years. Hell, even if Bi-Han recalled a moment his father wasn’t physically in, his looming presence affected his daily life and personal relationships.
“Bi-Han!” a childlike voice calls out to him. He turns around to see Tomas entering his bedroom. Tomas looked younger, with soft, relaxed eyes that kindly look at his brother; a shorter stature that Bi-Han teased would never grow taller; but a face that was so unlike his and Kuai Liang’s it frustrated him. Bi-Han never knew the true reason his father took in the young boy and made him a - false, as he would argue - Lin Kuei, but it often brought out an insecurity he would never admit existed. Were he and Kuai Liang not the type of sons to be proud of? Did he think Bi-Han would be a poor grandmaster, and was Tomas secretly being groomed to take the throne?
Bi-Han can rationalize, saying that his father and Tomas have no underlying intent, but it doesn’t make looking at the boy’s smiling face any easier. He glances in a small mirror across the room. Soft is the layer of baby fat that plumps his face. It melted away with age, revealing his hardened and stern expression. But now? He feels fifteen again. Tomas soon regains his attention as he starts speaking.
“Kuai Liang and I haven’t seen you in ages. We would be grateful if you ate lunch with us,” he smiles. That fucking smile that never fails to make Bi-Han feel guilty.
Bi-Han just scoffs. “There are ways I could better spend my time.”
“But, brother, I never saw you at breakfast this morning. You must be hungry,” he smiles again.
“Your concern is wasted, leave me.”
Bi-Han is now a bit irritated. Why can’t he just take no for an answer? Maybe the better question would be: why couldn’t he just say a quick no thank you? Why was communication so difficult?
“Father is there too, I believe he wishes to speak to you, brother.”
Great. The last person he wanted to talk to. Now he definitely doesn’t want to go. Why won’t he just leave him alone?
“Father will be concerned if you don’t go,” Tomas says. The way his face twists into one of concern is annoying. It takes everything to not roll his eyes.
“Then tell him I am ill.”
“But Father-”
“You share not one drop of blood with him,” he finally snaps, his eyes narrowing at Tomas, “he is not your father, nor am I your brother.”
The room is silent, and the air is polluted with tension. Tomas’ face is bright red; out of sadness or out of anger, Bi-Han doesn’t know. What he does know is that his lashing out was very unnecessary. His irritation shouldn’t have been taken out on Tomas, it’s unfortunate that the words ‘I’m sorry’ are too foreign to fall from his lips. Not a word is uttered as Tomas walks out the room, his footsteps are heavy and the sound pounds in Bi-Han’s ears.
Once again, Bi-Han is left alone with his thoughts. The silence would deafen him if it wasn't for his mind constantly berating him for this moment and every other mistake he’s ever made. He collapses on his bed and further berates himself for the tears that start to burn his eyes, Pathetic. Just pathetic. Bi-Han begs the tears to not fall, not today please.
But they do.
Gentle rain slowly rolls down his face, the only difference is that now he feels younger. Quiet sobbing is somehow picked up by Bi-Han. Call it a sixth sense, if you will - one that was taught through many months of training. His head snaps in the direction of the barely audible sound. Bi-Han’s eyes soften to see Kuai Liang crying into his hand, choking back sobs that threaten to expose his sadness. His face is tiny, red, and wet, unlike the tall and strong man that he would soon grow into. His body is sprawled on the ground, too distraught to even stand. A wave of brotherly protectiveness washes over Bi-Han. Who dared to bring pain to his brother? If only Bi-Han could remember what exactly this memory is, then he’d be able to dish out some vengeance. He tries to remember, but everything feels hazy and spotty.
Suddenly, Kuai Liang notices Bi-Han’s presence and drags his body over to his brother, collapsing into him, and bringing the man - well, boy - to the ground. Bi-Han stiffens as Kuai Liang cries into his shoulder. Emotions have never been his strong suit. Their mother was alway the strong, comforting shoulder to cry on. Maybe their mother could help Kuai Liang. Just where is she?
“Mother is gone…I can’t believe she is truly gone,” Kuai Liang wails.
Oh, oh.
She’s dead.
That’s why his brother is crying. That’s why Bi-Han has been fighting to stop the tears that continue to fall down his face. Bi-Han’s body feels tense and limp at the same time. Why was his brain choosing to relive the absolute worst day of his life? His breath begins to quicken. He wants out. He doesn’t know what to do. How is Bi-Han supposed to comfort Kuai Liang? Bi-Han thinks back to what his mother would do. She was warm, inviting, and quick to wrap her sons in her arms, whispering sweet words to calm them down. Soft words have no chance at spilling out his mouth, so a hand would have to do. He slings an arm around his brother’s back, noticing the momentary freeze in Kuai Liang. The quiet gesture of comfort doesn’t feel natural to either boy, but it doesn’t mean that it isn’t appreciated. Bi-Han just hopes that his brother will calm down sooner or later. By now his shoulder and neck are soaked to hell. The air touches the area and makes him feel cold and uncomfortable. But Bi-Han refuses to move a single inch, not wanting to disturb his brother’s rush of emotions.
Suddenly, Bi-Han remembers he’s supposed to be training with his father. His blood chills as he thinks of the possible consequences for skipping or even just being late to training. Would his father be graceful and let him miss a day? He, too, should be grieving the death of their mother, the grandmaster’s wife. It’s too risky to even find out.
As gently as he can, Bi-Han maneuvers Kuai Liang off his body and stands.
“Come, training will take your mind off the situation,” he says, stretching his hand out. He doesn’t get the reaction he was hoping for. Kuai Liang just glares at him with teary, glossy eyes.
“Even in death, even in her death that is all you think about!” Kuai Liang’s voice is shaky as he forces his body to produce the words he so desperately wants to say. “Even in her death, that is all you care about.”
“It is a distraction,” comes Bi-Han’s voice, starting to drip with bitterness; angry at what he feels is an accusation. No lie was told, Bi-Han spent many days working off his frustration by training with other Lin Kuei. “Father requires it of us.”
Kuai Liang scoffs and wipes the remaining tears from his eyes. He stands, ignoring Bi-Han’s still outstretched hand, and walks off to the training facility. Bi-Han’s own heart is obviously heavy with the loss of his mother. It weighs more and more with each step Kuai Liang takes. A mix of guilt and helplessness gnaws at his chest. Did he just fail at his job as a big brother? Did he misread something he needed to pick up on? He tries to shake off the feeling and he makes his way down the hall, following his brother. However, the further he goes, the fuzzier the world gets. It’s too blurry to see, and it feels like everything is fading…
Bi-Han wakes with a jolt. His body is on guard for a few moments as he takes in his surroundings, only relaxing once he realizes he was in the Grandmaster’s chambers, a place he seldom visited after his mother’s death. His chest burned with any and all thoughts of his mother, so it only made sense to never be in the room where she slept. Until now.
On the large bed, adorned with an expensive sapphire and silver frame, lay his father; thin and frail with sunken in eyes, practically lifeless. It’s as if he was a corpse playing a cruel trick on this living, trying to convince that he was one of them. He doesn’t know if his father is awake or asleep, and he can’t bring himself to check. A wet, crackling sound escapes from the back of the Grandmaster’s throat which amplifies with each breath. It is called a death rattle, a Lin Kuei medic explained to him earlier that day, while it may sound concerning, it is a normal, natural end of life process.
It felt like a cruel and deceptive lie. That inhuman sound that perverted his father’s image was nothing but abnormal. The Lin Kuei grandmaster, a man who represented the Lin Kuei’s commanding strength, was reduced to having sickly, almost zombie-like skin, and too weak to clear the fluid building up in his throat. It didn’t have to come to this. The right medicine was there to save him but Father is dooming the Lin Kuei to lifelong mediocrity it felt pointless to prolong what was inevitable. It hurts to see his father in such a decomposing state, his chest feels a bit tight. He has no right to even be here. The Grandmaster could’ve been well on the road to recovery had he not intervened.
He thinks about his brothers, Tomas and Kuai Liang. How would they feel if they found out he’s letting their father pass? What would they do? Would Tomas’ face turn beet red as he refuses to speak? Would Kuai Liang sob into his hand then scoff when Bi-Han says something foolish? He doesn’t know. They’re all adults now and Bi-Han hasn’t seen his brothers show such emotion since. Maybe it’s Tomas who cries, and Kuai Liang’s face that heats up. Or maybe they both lash out in anger.
Bi-Han looks at his father, boring holes through the dying man’s skull. It’s his fault. It’s the Grandmaster’s fault Bi-Han lashed out at Tomas, it’s the Grandmaster’s fault that Bi-Han couldn’t comfort Kuai Liang properly. It’s his fault that Bi-Han failed to be the brother Tomas and Kuai Liang needed. Bi-Han understands it's foolish to blame another for his actions, but blaming something barely moving is easier.
It’s time to go. Bi-Han needs to prepare for his duties as future grandmaster. His father's soul shouldn't linger much longer in his failing body. Perhaps Bi-Han should start funeral preparations first. He gets out of his chair, slightly stretching his muscles that were angry at being dormant for too long. His footsteps echo as he walks to the door of the room. Bi-Han takes one last look at his father, feeling grateful his brothers weren’t around to witness the distressing sight.
Bi-Han leaves the room and closes the door behind him. He feels like less of a man for not having the guts to at least be there for his father while the man drew his last breath, but Bi-Han knows he’d have to fight back a tear or two - he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Instead, he promises that he will lead the Lin Kuei to a stronger, better future. One unlike any past iteration. No one would be fool enough to mess with the Lin Kuei under his watchful eye.
A/N - Hopefully this is in character. I really struggle with writing Bi-Han because I personally feel like he's a lot more...soft (for lack of a better term) than he is usually depicted. When I say soft I don't mean uwu squeeeee soft, I mean I don't believe he's as hardened as some say. Please let me know your thoughts.
#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat fanfic#bi han fanfic#mortal kombat 1 fanfiction#mortal kombat x reader
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A little poll just for fun~
also psssst, i want christmas/winter themed requests plz
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I'm literally obsessed w her
I have no energy I REALLY wanna go to sleep rn I'm about to fall asleep BUT I NEEDED HERR it's not funny
I can't even make myself draw, it feels like I'm loosing this ability of mine, my hands are not moving, my thoughts are empty AND THEN THERE IS SHE. ah I'm crying fr
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Constricting Bonds Masterlist
Shang Tsung x gn!Reader
Summary: In the shadowed tapestry of a world where love and darkness entwine, a soul finds itself captivated by the allure of a man steeped in shadows. You, a seeker of light, surrender your heart to a figure whose essence is shrouded in malevolence. As your love blossoms in the moonlit garden of forbidden desires, an impending storm brews on the horizon.
Or - you’re upset your father says no to you dating.
Chapter One: (I Just Wanna Sing) With You Tonight
Chapter Two:
Chapter Three:
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Your MK men as parents headcanons are very interesting. Would you write other MK men as parents? Especially I want to read Rain and Havik!
MK Men as Parents pt2
Masterlist || Part One
Characters: Rain, Havik, Quan Chi, Kenshi
Note: Combined a couple of requests into one. Also, sorry this one took forever to come out!
Rain
Probably one of the more normal parents.
He’s a lot more chill compared to himself in other timelines. I can see him being a proud parent to one or two children. Maybe twins?
Teaches his kids to be a better mage than he is. He tries to make his lessons as fun as he possibly can.
Though, he can become frustrated if they aren't taking their teachings seriously. If something were to happen, they need to learn how to defend themselves.
In some MK1 intros you can tell Mileena (understandably) has a lot of distaste for Rain. So much that she wants his mother banished.
I can imagine his children are involved in this banishment which irritates him. His family, especially his innocent children, do not deserve to be punished for his actions.
The main driving force behind Rain’s mission to atone for his actions is his children. He wants to show that if you make a mistake, you should try to make things right. He also wants to be a man his children can be proud of.
Havik
A pretty hands off parent.
I can’t imagine him ever having a complete grasp on this parenting thing.
Just has one kid and refuses to have more.
His kid just kind of does whatever and Havik doesn’t care. Just as long as they don’t make a mess he has to clean up.
Has the “world’s your oyster” mentality.
This behavior is boosted to 100% after his burns. He embraces the chaos, and what’s more chaotic than having a kid?
Havik and his kid are public menaces, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
He’s less of a parent and more of a cool older friend.
Don’t come to him for emotional support or other things like that. Having to actually parent his kid makes him feel tied down.
If his kid wants too much from him he’ll somewhat drift away.
You’ll have to hope their other parent is in the picture.
Quan Chi
Totally the parent who somehow knows their kid’s every move.
He knows when their kid has done something they shouldn’t so there’s never any use in lying to him. He just has this look on his face and his kid knows they’re in trouble.
Excuse my only child self for HCing every character as being a single parent but Quan Chi definitely only has enough energy for one kid.
He feels guilty for bringing a child into the world when he can barely take care of himself. Spending hours and hours in the mines, Quan Chi is exhausted by the time he sees his kid.
All his child knows is a dad who always looks tired and dejected.
That is, until he gets an opportunity to live a better life. A place to sleep, clothes that aren’t tattered, and fresh food - all necessities that his child now gets to experience.
Whenever his child asks how he was able to provide their new life, he just smiles and gives a cryptic answer.
Kenshi
His child was kept hidden. Kenshi thought it best to keep his child away from the whole Earthrealm-Outworld war.
None of his allies knew he was a father til the day they were all thrown in jail with Baraka. Thinking it was his last day on earth, he let the secret spill. Kenshi told everyone all about his child.
He mourned the fact he’d probably never see his child again. Of course, he did; after he helped defeat Titan Shang Tsung.
Kenshi was very nervous to meet his child again. What if they don’t react well to his blindness? Johnny pulls him out of his negative thinking. If your kid is as kind as they say you are, then why would they have a bad reaction?
It eases him a bit, but he’s still a little nervous. He feels like a fool for having those thoughts when his child runs to him, screaming his name. The last few weeks of fighting for Earthrealm was all worth it for them.
His child is a bit confused when they see the mask over his eyes.
“You can’t see me!” They say with a frown.
Sento glows, and Kenshi suddenly sees all the details of his child’s face. He smiles, assuring them.
“Yes I can.”
—
@mortal-kombat-shitposts
#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat fanfic#mortal kombat headcanons#mortal kombat 1 fanfiction#quan chi#mortal kombat havik#rain mortal kombat#kenshi takahashi
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MK Characters and Thanksgiving
Masterlist
Note: Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate! I figured I should post something for the holiday. This is also my announcement to let everyone know it’s time to send in the Christmas/winter themed requests!! <3
Characters: Johnny Cage, Liu Kang, Raiden, Kenshi, Kung Lao, Ashrah, Syzoth.
Warnings: Food and alcohol mentions
Note: This is all based on things my family and I do/have done for Thanksgiving.
Johnny Cage
His own family is kind of ehhh so he jumps at the opportunity to host his new pals for Thanksgiving. He’s happy to be the one to introduce the holiday to the non-Americans/non-Earthrealmers. Can’t cook for shit so most of the food is catered, but he does know Grandma Carlton’s apple pie recipe by heart and tries to make it himself. Surprisingly, he isn’t bad at cooking.
He shows everyone the classic special A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. It’s important for everyone to view the cartoon that shaped his childhood. Has the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade on TV and later watches the Cowboys, Lions, and whatever other NFL teams play that day.
Johnny Cage is your stereotypical American whose favorite dish is apple pie.
Liu Kang
Says he’s only coming to show his face and wish everyone a happy holiday but he truly wants to be there. It brings him a sense of nostalgia and comfort. Johnny Cage from his timeline used to throw holiday gatherings. Seeing everyone together “again” is bittersweet. He’s emotional, sad that he’ll never see his buddies again. No one could ever tell what he’s feeling; Liu Kang has mastered stoicism.
As a god, he doesn’t feel hunger, nor does he eat much. He may try a few bites of something after Johnny nudges him to, only out of sheer politeness. Liu Kang prefers watching everyone else eat and talk to each other. Everyone’s happy, Earthrealm’s at peace, he’s happy.
Liu Kang thought the turkey was fine, even if it was a bit dry.
Raiden
Accepted the invitation immediately. Enjoys what Thanksgiving is supposed to represent, a little miffed to see no cares about that; only the food. Tries to instill gratefulness in the get together. Makes everyone go around and say what they’re grateful for. Probably stands up and gives a speech about how he’s grateful for Lord Liu Kang and his new allies. It would be annoying if it was anyone else lmfao.
Tries almost everything just to be nice but mostly eats food he’s used to. Can’t blame a guy for having his likes! Raiden eats until he’s full. He’s the one telling Kung Lao to not take so much food so everyone else can have some. Raiden talks to all of his friends but probably sticks to Liu Kang and Kung Lao. It’s just natural for him.
Raiden liked the mashed potatoes.
Kenshi
Wanted to leave Sento at home so Johnny wouldn’t get ideas but…he also needed to “see” so Sento was brought to the event. He just made sure to keep it far away from Johnny. Probably shows up with alcohol.
Only eats “normal” food. Anything that looks like it came out of Johnny’s imagination will not be consumed by Kenshi. Like Raiden, he only eats a modest amount. Most of his time is spent bantering with the others. Jokingly says no when Johnny asks if he wants to come back next year. He definitely will though.
Kenshi liked the alcohol he brought the sweet potatoes with the little marshmallows on top.
Kung Lao
Is the one who eats several plates of food and packs several to-go plates. Almost starts a drinking contest with Johnny but is stopped by several people. Just decided to postpone the drinking contest to another day. He’ll bet on the NFL games with Raiden. Neither of them know what the hell is going on. Gloats when his team wins.
Tells Johnny what food he wants to see next year, and the year after that, and the year after that. Promises to ask Madam Bo to make some food to bring to the next Thanksgiving. He and Johnny have the next 10 years planned out.
His favorite dish is probably something savory like roast beef.
Ashrah
Delighted to be invited to a group event. She never expected to have a home, Ashrah is forever grateful to Earthrealm for letting her in. She’s very happy to have her first taste at an Earthrealm holiday. Ashrah shows up bright and early! She and Johnny watch the Thanksgiving parade together. There’s a childlike gleam in her eyes when she sees all the balloons. She also watches the football games on TV. Not because she particularly cares about it, but because she wants to participate in all the traditions.
Ashrah tries each dish but can’t find one she likes more than the others. All the new textures and tastes are a bit overwhelming, so she passes on the opportunity to try more. Maybe next year!
Ashrah doesn’t have a favorite dish, she still has to get used to Earthrealm food.
Syzoth
Same as Ashrah - he’s just happy to be there. Spends most of his time talking to others…and by “others,” I mean Ashrah. The food is hot and makes the air slightly warm. It makes Syzoth incredibly happy. He’ll come back every year just to feel the warmth in Johnny’s house.
Syzoth can’t stomach human food. His stomach rejects food by giving him intense pains. It usually doesn’t bother him, but today he’s a bit upset. Everything smells nice! He wants to try everything :(
Maybe someday Syzoth will be able to handle human foods.
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