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lilacsandpetals · 2 months

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Frozen Blossoms

Frozen Blossoms Pt. 7

Last part here

Bi-Han x F! Reader

Tags and notes: Arranged marriage AU, SFW (but some suggestive themes), exploring emotions, Pre-MK1/MK1 AU

Warnings: NSFW, violent thoughts kinda?

As you returned, you had fallen asleep in Bi-Han’s arms, so you don’t exactly remember when you got home. Everything seemed like a blur as you tried to make sense of what happened, all the while medics had been tending to your sustained wounds. Most of the lacerations were minor. A few cuts, some scrapes, and unsightly bruises were present, but you didn’t consider it that alarming. Then there was the sprain your ankle sustained, which would be unpleasant to manage. But that would heal within a few weeks, as long as you rest, that is. You could manage the physical wounds. That wasn’t the main thing that was bothering you. It was more so trying to grasp what had just happened, the stress, and the plethora of other emotions that came wrapped up with it.

Sometime after all the commotion you found yourself lying on your bed, cleaned up, and with a change of clothes. You appeared much better, truly you were anything but. Your head was aching, you felt almost nauseous as you replayed the sequence of events over in your head again and again. It was as if you were working yourself into feeling ill. It was odd, you didn’t want to think about it, you wanted to pretend that it didn’t happen. That it was some type of horrid dream. Yet your brain drifted back to it almost constantly; going over what had occurred and what you could’ve done to avoid it.

A part of you felt ashamed. You felt as if you caused such a hassle. And maybe you felt embarrassed too, you started your training here shortly after you married, and yet when you needed it, you couldn’t put any of your knowledge or training to use. How were you supposed to live up to your status? Did the rest of the clan think less of you?

You didn’t think any of this could be a possibility when you had gotten married. It just never occurred to you. You should’ve thought it over more seriously before marrying him. But back then you were actively trying to avoid thinking about the marriage altogether, you were running away from your impending future. How foolish of you. Maybe you would have been more mentally prepared if you had been realistic and rational. It was an unspoken expectation to expect risks in your position, and now you are suffering more than you would have, had you taken the time to process that fact.

But you’re tired now, and you don’t want to think about it. You want it to stop. So you try to sleep. You close your eyes and hope this is all a bad dream.

——————————

This wasn’t a dream.

It was more like a nightmare, that’s what it felt like for Bi-Han. It all happened too quickly. Nothing he considered suspicious had occurred when he accompanied you. And he had thought that slipping away for a moment would be fine. He was so focused on trying to find the perfect gift for you, something that would suit you, that he didn’t realize what had happened until a fire erupted. Screams and the commotion of fleeing civilians took over his senses as he scanned the area for you. He had helped some people avoid injury, leading and practically pushing them away from harm. Maybe he could have been more considerate but he wasn’t particularly focused on them. Perhaps it was selfish, but he was solely concentrated on finding you.

But you disappeared quickly, and from that point on, he knew the fire was a calculated distraction. He rapidly returned home to recruit his brothers’ assistance in locating who could have stolen you away from him. And he was quick to deduct that a rival clan had kept you as a hostage. At least that’s what he hoped. Because he knew rivalries were rarely kind affairs. And that the quicker you were killed, the faster new bridal prospects would be offered up to secure new alliances.

He doesn’t want that, he doesn’t want to think about it. That’s why he wastes no time tracking you down. He leaves Kuai Liang and Tomas to collect notable evidence as they rampage through the worn-down building. He’ll need it to quell any problems that may arise from the bloodshed he is about to partake in. He is devoid of mercy as his bloodlust takes over his every action, allowing it to steer him like the strings of a puppet. His heart beats widely, Kuai Liang and Tomas have gone ahead of him, searching for you. And he’ll have to thank them after this is over. He needs you to be alive. You have to be, but a part of him is fearful as he breaks through the door where his brothers’ voices filter through.

And there you were. Alive, scared, and disheveled.

He hasn’t felt such an odd mix of relief and sadness before.

So when he gathers you up in his arms to return home, he tries to remain calm, like he is composed, even though he is anything but. He is glad you felt comfortable enough to doze off as he carried you back home, but as he thinks back on it, you were more than likely just exhausted. When he handed you off to the medics you had woken up abruptly, gripping his arm with such desperation that it made his stoic face finally falter. He couldn’t hide the frown that made its way to his face as he tried his best to comfort you, assure you that he was in the room, that he was not going anywhere, and that the medical staff had to make sure you were okay. And when he reluctantly let you go, he couldn’t help but feel that he disappointed you.

He keeps a watchful eye as your wounds are tended to, and when you’re being bathed and dressed by a few select maids he slips away to fill in the Grandmaster on what has happened. On his way there, he pulls the hairpin from his pocket, eyeing it for a moment before hastily shoving it away. He doesn’t want to look at it right now.

——————————

The days pass by, some more quickly than others. Your wounds slowly healed, although a few of the cuts manifested into unsightly scars. Thankfully your ankle was healing in a timely manner.

And Bi-Han was at your side through it all. Ever the dutiful husband. He was attentive, keeping an eye on you, tending to any need before you even had the chance to ask. He was patient with you. His hands were gentle whenever he helped change any bandages or the binding on your ankle.

But he was quiet. More so than usual.

You would try to make conversation, but he seemed adamant about keeping your verbal interactions brief. You asked if he’d want to drink tea with you in the mornings and evenings. He used to say yes and you two would converse, even if he was busy. Now you were met with quick and polite refusals. You’d ask him about his day, he’d be to the point, barely elaborating on anything the way he once did. You felt as if the only times your conversations were extensive were when they revolved around your injuries and healing process. The sense of intimacy you both shared seemed to be rapidly deteriorating as well. The other night you lazily turned to him in your bed. He was looking at you, not a word left his lips. You whispered a simple goodnight and leaned it slightly, just to place a chaste kiss on his skin. But he tilted his face down, slightly away from you. You figured he was tired, yet you feared it was something else.

It perplexed you. He maintained the same level of kindness, but you felt as if there was a disconnect. Was he angry at you? Or maybe disappointed? It wasn’t your fault, it’s not like you had asked to be kidnapped. But maybe if you were better equipped, better prepared, then it would’ve never happened. And if it never happened maybe you two could have been closer by now. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so far away even when he’s in the same damn room as you.

His demeanor had added to the myriad of thoughts that circled through your mind like clockwork. It was exhausting. You placed a hand on your forehead as you lay in your bed. You wanted so badly for it to stop, but these thoughts always lingered in the back of your head. And tonight was no different. On occasion it seeps into your dreams, conjuring up different scenarios of what could have been. Scenarios where Bi-Han didn’t come to your aid in time or where he explicitly makes his distaste of you known. It makes you wake up in a cold sweat. To which Bi-Han would promptly awaken as well. He would reassure you that you were safe within the Lin Kuei’s walls and that he was by your side before urging you to go back to sleep.

If this one event was enough to rattle you, it made you wonder if Bi-Han ever had any nightmares. He had seen and endured far more than you ever had. Did it ever bother him? Did it ever disturb his sleep? Now that you think of it, he only ever fell asleep after you were sound asleep. Other than the past days, you rarely ever woke up in the middle of the night, so you weren’t aware of him dealing with any nightmares, if he did suffer any at all. Some semblance of guilt settled in your stomach. Maybe you should be more attentive in that way, or at least check up on him more often. This incident opened your eyes to the reality of his line of work. Of course, you knew the Lin Kuei are a fierce clan but it was different when you had experienced it firsthand. You didn’t know how gruesome their outings could be, it made you worry for him more than you did before.

At that moment, the image of Bi-Han coming to your rescue comes to mind. He was doused in the shade of red that day. You could scarcely see the blue and black shades of his clothing. Splotches of blood had been splattered across his cheek and forehead. When he carried you back you had noticed the dried blood stuck under his fingernails, was that his blood or someone else’s? You had a feeling it wasn't his. He was capable of a level of brutality that you weren’t fully aware of prior. And the image of your husband practically soaked in someone’s else blood is seared into your mind.

Although, it didn’t scare you as much as you thought it would.

Was that a bad thing? You couldn’t tell.

——————————

Bi-Han thinks that you haven't been yourself lately, but he doesn’t blame you. You always seem lost in thought, your facial expressions oscillate between concentrated or dissociated. You often had a headache or just didn’t feel well. He thinks it’s still the shock of the incident getting to you.

And today is no different.

A migraine had taken hold of you today and so staying confined to your bed seemed all too enticing. It was becoming a bad habit. Technically your body was healing and you should be getting back into the regular flow of your lessons, but you couldn’t bring yourself to get right back to it. You know you should, it’d help you be better prepared for future endeavors, and maybe it would serve as a good distraction. But lately, your motivation has been lacking. So again you’ve found yourself isolated, staying in your room more often than not.

But your head hurts and you feel slightly nauseous, so it’s more comfortable to stay in bed than venture out. The majority of the day is spent going in and out of sleep.

Bi-Han enters the room quietly. He’s been busy lately, trying to better himself. Taking up more responsibility from his father in managing the clan, and training more often.

It’s for your sake, really. That is what he tells himself.

But he’s taking a break from his busy schedule. He just wants to see if you’ve eaten yet. Much to his dismay there is a tray of untouched food at your bedside, while you lay buried under a layer of cotton blankets.

You were falling asleep again, trying not to mull over the same worries that had been eating away at you for days. Your eyes were closed but you felt a dip in the bed and a hand brush up against your forehead before it gently pet your hair. You knew it was Bi-Han. It was comforting when he was near, you felt far safer with him than you did with anyone else. You didn’t open your eyes, your eyelids felt too heavy and your body was being lulled to sleep, but a small smile briefly graced your lips. He caught sight of it.

He was satisfied that you were getting some sleep at the very least, he’d often have to soothe you back to sleep after you’d wake up in a panic from nightmares plaguing you in the dark of night. Every time you endured another nightmare, he felt his guilt increase. However, you currently looked peaceful, and seeing your smile just now gave him a sense of satisfaction, or rather what he’d come to know as just plain happiness.

But did he deserve that happiness?

It scares him that he was undoubtedly close to not being able to see you smile again. He retracts his hand, and you don’t react. He figures that you must be asleep now. His back leans against the headboard of the bed, while his eyes drag down to take in your form.

He has not spent much time with you since that day. Part of him yearned for you, and yet part of him was keen on avoiding you.

He didn’t realize he would take such a liking to you when he married you, but he grew weak to your presence. Soon enough he found himself intoxicated with you. The small delights of your smile, your touch, your softly spoken words, they had taken hold of him. You had become precious to him. And when softening his heart towards you, he failed to realize the anguish he would suffer had you ever been taken away from him.

It’s as if he could feel himself shutting down. Building up a wall against the harm you might do to him. Because the fact that the very things he adored about you were finite, that you would not be here forever, terrified him.

Pathetic.

He wanted to avoid the hurt. Shield himself from an uncertain future. It wasn’t his intention. He didn’t even notice the visceral response, at first anyway. Of course, he took care of you, but he limited himself. He didn’t speak to you as often, as if to punish and protect himself simultaneously. He was hesitant. Why attach himself any more than he already was? It only posed a greater risk to him. And now his own lack of competency reveals a rotten core that causes him to be egocentric yet again. To slowly start pushing you away again despite your needs and despite the desires that lay in the crevices of his heart.

For a lingering moment, he thinks of his father. How his father must’ve hurt when his mother died.

His father really loved his mother, didn’t he?

He misses his mother.

She was a strong woman, honorable and resilient. As a child, he always thought his mother would be there. He was exposed to the concept of death at a very young age, but he never thought it would pertain to his family. As he grew older he understood that perhaps there would be a risk of death in battle. He’d seen his clanmates perish and witnessed his father slaughter their enemies and those who threatened Earthrelm. And then he partook in those activities himself when he was just barely blooming into adolescence. He never anticipated death to come to him or one of his loved ones through illness. And yet he was served just that. No matter how strong his mother was, no matter how mindful she was, she was betrayed by her own body. And he was powerless to stop it. He felt as if she slipped through his fingers. He hated watching her wither away bit by bit. He despised how helpless and fearful he had felt back then. He hadn’t felt that type of despair until that fire erupted and you disappeared from his sight.

And after his mother passed, nothing ever felt the same anymore. His father said time would heal their wounds. But he found his father to be dishonest because not a day went by where he wouldn’t ponder the fantasy of a life where his mother lived a healthy life.

Some reality where his mother didn’t frantically scold him for weeping about her misfortune. Where his father didn’t push him exponentially harder than his brothers. Where he didn’t have to watch his father fall apart in private. Where he didn’t have to bear the burden of his father’s anguish-fueled training, and where he didn’t have to tend to Kuai Liang’s sadness at the expense of his own grieving process. He buried that grief within him, and it somehow found its way to seep out of him.

Maybe it wasn’t just grief.

Some immature, boyish part of him was angry. Upset that his mother left him to bear so much on his own.

Anger was such a familiar emotion to him, But this anger felt different. Taking root and creeping out of a part of himself that he seldom shows anyone.

He was angry that his mother left him. And he was furious at himself for still being hurt over it. It was immature and unbecoming of him. Perhaps that was the same anger he felt towards you, he abhorred the fact that you had grown to be of such importance to him. He hated that you could cause him to delve into that ever-familiar fear and worry once more. He hated that you could have left him.

But truly, it’s all misguided, and deep down he knows it.

If he is being honest, he detests himself for feeling the way he does.

There’s a rustling of the bedsheets and Bi-Han is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears you gasp.

“What is it?” he asks in a rather urgent tone.

Your eyes flutter open and you move to slowly sit up, you take a few deep breaths and instinctively grip his forearm, his hand is slow as he moves to place it over yours. The sudden nature of your awakening leads him to believe you must’ve experienced a glimpse of another nightmare, and he can’t bring himself to ask you if you’ve dreamt about the incident again. If you’re dreaming about his shortcomings again. He knows he is tactless. If you bring up the nightmare, he will assure you again that it will not happen, as he has done in nights prior. It’s almost amusing that as many times as he has reassured you, his own confidence falters bit by bit.

If you do not bring up any distressing dreams, he will not push you to disclose anything.

“Are you hurt?” he mumbles. You shake your head, but wince when you try to move your foot. “The wraps on my ankle are bothering me, I just want to take them off for a little while,” you say softly and lean forward but Bi-Han lightly waves his hand. “I will do it.”

You lean back and Bi-Han raises your foot as he unwraps the binding. He moves your foot from side to side slowly, as he’s no stranger to a sprained ankle. “The binding is bothering you more because you haven’t been elevating your foot enough. The more often you keep it elevated, the less swollen it’ll be,” he says and grabs a small pillow to place under your foot.

“Thank you,” you respond and shoot him a smile. “I appreciate all the help.”

“It’s my duty, is it not?”

You bite your lip. You appreciated his help, but you thought by now he’d give you a different answer. Something that alluded to a suggestion of care or affection. You thought he would ask if you’ve had another nightmare (you did). But you awoke to his presence and it is comforting enough to know that he is by your side. Yet the air feels thick in your lungs as you acknowledge that his words are minimal. He asks no questions despite the knowing look in his eyes.

You sigh quietly, “Duty is everything, hm?”

His eyes meet yours for an uncomfortable moment. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

You properly sit up now. “You know when we married I initially performed out of duty. But now it’s out of care. I care about you Bi-Han.” You want to say more, add a more potent word to showcase your feelings for him, but you bite your tongue.

“And you think I don’t care about you? Why else would your well-being concern me?” He tosses the wraps to the floor and you can’t help but think your statement has struck a nerve.

You cross your arms, “do not twist my words.”

He looks towards you, a small frown forms on his face, but it disappears just as fast. “Haven’t I proven myself to you? I watch over you day and night, I take care of you.”

A retort lays at the tip of your tongue but you refrain from speaking. Technically, he was speaking the truth. Yet you desired something more. Maybe you were misconstruing things? But no. You knew something was off. So you hold his gaze and shake your head. “Yes, you have. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” You’re hesitant for a moment. “Is everything alright?”

The question catches him off guard. Have you noticed any change? He has attempted to maintain the air of normalcy as much as possible. “Yes.”

You wanted to give him a chance to voice his concerns. “Are you sure?” You ask quietly. You know something is off, but how much were you meant to push him on the subject? Bi-Han places his hand on your shoulder “I am certain.”

You lay your hand over his and squeeze it gently, “If you say so.”

You don’t believe him.

——————————

There’s a full moon that just barely shines through the window of the kitchen. You’ve always found it lovely, a peaceful and comforting sight. It’s a stark contrast to the tea kettle screeching above a small flame on the stove.

You take longer than usual to remove it from the heat.

You’d much rather be in bed right now, but you’d woken up in the middle of the night to find your bed empty. You were waking up in the middle of the night less often as time went on. Bit by bit your fear of being snatched away began to decrease. Yet the unease of your husband’s behavior fueled your overthinking. And the fact that this was the third time this week that he had disappeared in the middle of the night did nothing to help you. You suspect that he went to train on his midnight excursions, as you’d often stir awake when he’d return. You’d catch glimpses of him heaving and glistening with sweat.

Bi-han’s behavior leads you to think he is not being entirely honest. Now you do have to hand it to him, he is extremely skilled at concealing his unrest when he really wants to. But the longer you two have been married, the more of his habits you’ve picked up on. When he is angry or upset the training grounds become his second home, he becomes reckless; more scrapes and bruises grace his hands. He refrains from drinking his preferred tea of oolong and instead opts for something more bitter. He doesn’t converse as often anymore. You know it’s not as noticeable as before, but its lack still lingers. It irks you, it feels like such an odd step back. You do try to be patient, but you thought you were past this. You thought you were at a point where true comfort could be found with one another.

You worry about him. He had slowly opened up to you, but not to the degree you long for. You felt like you were always longing for more, when would you finally get it? You wonder if Bi-Han feels the same, and you wonder if he struggles to articulate the desire just as you do. You suspect that if you bluntly ask him what is troubling him, he will brush off the question. So you will have to devise an alternative strategy.

You carefully pour two cups of tea and now you wait. It’s in the late hours of the night. You assume the others are asleep. Your ears are attentive to your surroundings and hear the echo of footsteps getting louder and louder as they resonate through the hallway. You choose this moment to ambush your husband.

Bi-Han abruptly comes to a stop, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was startled. He looks at you the way a disappointed superior would. “What are you doing up at his hour? And what of your ankle? Go to bed.”

You shake your head. “No, I couldn’t sleep and it seems that neither can you. So I made tea for the both of us”

He sighs and rubs his knuckles lightly, they’re red. “No, I am fine without tea.”

You try not to roll your eyes. You were attempting to remain neutral but here you were already beginning to lose your patience. Or perhaps that was a side effect of feeling tired.

Your hand makes its way to grab his forearm. “I already made it, you might as well drink it.”

He looks down at your hand and figures that arguing more at this point wouldn’t do him any good. He follows you to the small table in the kitchen, pulling out a chair for you to sit on before he sits down himself. So he joins you, sipping his tea quietly so as to not disturb you. However, he is mistaken because his silence is perplexing you to no end.

You sip your tea as well, it’s too hot. “You know I’ve missed our conversations, I feel as if we barely have time to spend together, let alone have a conversation.”

His gaze meets yours. The desire to be defensive is there, but all he does is return his eyes to his tea. He misses your chats too, in the morning, midday, the evening, but he can’t bring himself to say it. He doesn’t deserve your company if he has failed at protecting you, one of the main fundamentals of being a husband. “I’ve taken on more responsibilities recently.”

“Do those responsibilities include avoiding me?” You ask plainly and raise an eyebrow at him.

So much for subtlety.

His eyebrows furrow and that ever-familiar crease emerges on his forehead. “Whatever I do, I do for your benefit.”

“The lack of your presence does not benefit me.”

He clenches his jaw. He won’t voice it, but he is exhausted, he doesn’t exactly want to address this right now. “Am I not by your side whenever my schedule allows me the time? Have I not checked up on you throughout the day? Do I not aid you whenever necessary?”

Your resolve falters briefly. That was true, he still cared for you, physically anyway. “That’s not what I mean.”

He knows what you mean, and he is simultaneously impressed yet shamefully irked that you have taken notice of it. He is unwilling to speak on it.

“Let’s go to bed.”

You cross your arms. Of course, he would avoid the topic, he was a stubborn man, you knew that by now. “Fine, you can go to bed.”

Bi-Han finishes his tea in one quick gulp before getting up and looking at you. “Finish your tea, let’s go.”

“No I’d rather stay here, I’ll come to bed later.”

“Wife, it’s late, I’d rather not leave you here alone.” You could hear the shift in his voice, from polite to politely annoyed, and maybe a hint of underlying concern.

“You left our bedroom in the middle of the night to train anyway.”

He supposes you’re correct. “You were asleep when I left. I was getting in more practice, and our bedroom is one of the safest places in the Lin Keui’s Palace.”

“In my opinion, the kitchen is safe enough. Goodnight.” You return to drinking your tea and Bi-Han does not move. You wonder when he’ll leave the room, but the second you finish the tea you feel your chair being swiftly pulled backward and before you know it, your husband has taken you up into his arms. You briefly grasp at his shirt from the sudden movement. “What’re you doing?”

“Your ankle hasn’t fully healed yet. I’m taking you back to our room.”

“My ankle is almost fully healed. Put me down.” Even though you speak your request, part of you wants him to deny it.

“No.”

You try not to focus on him as he brings you back to your shared bedroom. You keep your eyes averted from his face, and he notices. He places you down on your side of the bed.

“So stubborn,” he mumbles under his breath.

Your head snaps back up to look at him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he responds gruffly and proceeds to let his hair down. You pinch the bridge of your nose “You’re far more stubborn than I am.”

“Oh, am I?”

“You know you are.” You pause and lay down in your bed facing the opposite direction before pulling the sheets up to your shoulders. “Pushing me away won’t help anything and we both know it,” you mumble.

“I’m not in the mood to quarrel with you, I’m going to bed. You should too.”

You close your eyes, trying not to focus on the sounds of your husband maneuvering around the room, and hoping that sleep falls upon you quickly.

——————————

Your hair is being particularly troublesome today as you try to style it. You need something to pin it back. Maybe it’s because the air is thick, but you can’t decipher if that’s due to the placebo of your own tense thoughts, or if the usually frigid climate has a touch of humidity. And maybe you’re mulling over minor peculiarities to convince yourself that it’s all a sign to move forward.

Today you’ve pushed yourself to try and engage with your regular schedule again, at least when it came to your lessons. So as you sit in front of your vanity you take a deep breath and try not to let your mind wander. But that was easier said than done. You had to look presentable today, how long would you be allowed to wallow in your room? Even if they let you keep to yourself for days, it wouldn’t exactly display a good impression. You had to become acclimated to moving forward despite what you dealt with. Everyone else in the clan seemed capable of doing it, so you should be too.

One particular strand of hair fails to stay in place as your hand traverses your jewelry box. You are looking for a clip or pin to match your clothing for today, but nothing seems to suit your tastes. A sigh of frustration leaves your lips and you start rummaging through the drawers nearby. Now Bi-Han kept some of his belongings in the bottom drawer and you knew that. You rarely saw him open it and in the process of hastily checking each one, you open his. Now you’re not one for snooping around, you respected your husband’s privacy. But technically, what’s yours was his and what’s his was yours, isn’t that what married couples always said? Or at least the ones that had been around you growing up had uttered the phrase here and there. Your eyes quickly scan the contents of the drawer before coming to a halt. Hidden away in the back corner of the drawer is a small blue box adorned with gold lining. You raise a brow, you don’t think you’ve seen Bi-Han with any pieces of jewelry before, not after your wedding day. You carefully pick up the box and examine it before opening it.

What you find perplexes you.

‘What is that?’

A lone pin sits at its center. It is simple, silver, with a shimmering blue gemstone at its core. You delicately pick it up. This was a pin suited for a female. Was this for you? It must be, right?

Although wouldn’t Bi-Han have given it to you by now?

You told yourself you’d try to maintain a sound mind today, and yet your husband’s distance delves your brain into overthinking again. What if the pin was for someone else? What if he didn’t see you fit for the role of his wife any longer?

No.

You cannot allow your thoughts to wander any longer like this. You were already mentally exhausted and you refuse to add this to your list of worries. Still, it concerns you that you had found this hidden away, or what you assumed to be hidden anyway. Perhaps this was against your better judgment, but the pin was simple and beautiful. To be fair even if it didn’t entirely match your outfit, it did match your necklace.

If this accessory was meant to be a surprise you don’t understand why he would take so long to give it to you. No holidays were near, nor was your birthday coming up.

A hypothesis forms within your thoughts as you pull back a portion of your hair and hold it in place with the hairpiece. If Bi-Han sees the pin and becomes aggressive, then it must be for another. If he sees the pin and leaves it, it must be for you. Now you would expect a minor scolding, maybe you’d be reprimanded for ruining a surprise, but if the gift was for you anyway, you wouldn’t consider it a big deal. You stare at your reflection in the mirror and take a deep breath. Your eyes fall to the necklace you are wearing. Bi-Han did have good taste when it came to picking out things for you. He was attentive in that way. A twinge of guilt seeps into you, he has grown warmer towards you since you had married. Maybe his distance wasn’t a fault of your own, but an outcome of what had happened to you.

Maybe it had shaken him up as well.

You decide you will speak to him this evening.

——————————

Your tutors were happy to meet with you today, and due to your lack of consistency with attending your lessons, you had a lot to catch up on. You did not mind it very much. Truthfully it helped to keep your brain from wandering. You’ve seen Bi-Han throughout the day in passing, he would stop by the room you were in and eye you up and down before asking if you were feeling okay. You’d give him a curt “yes,” or just a nod of the head to indicate that you were busy.

You don’t think he believes you.

The day goes by quickly for you and soon your tutor is advising you to join your family for dinner, but you calmly decline. Conjuring up an excuse that convinces your instructor to leave you be. You’d probably grab a snack to satiate you later on. For now, you just wanted time to think. Approaching your husband after dinner concludes seems like a decent idea. You don’t think Bi-Han noticed your new little accessory and based on last night’s sour conclusion, you didn’t want to suffer through an awkward dinner with your in-laws present. You yawn and lean back in your chair while stretching out your arms. Maybe you can go relax for now, you think you deserved it after all that work.

——————————

Bi-Han wasn’t all that hungry right now, he told Kuai Liang that he’d dine later on as he had something to take care of. Honestly, he didn’t want to face you just yet. Nor did he want to maintain the guise of a happy couple who hadn’t argued the prior night. Engaging in theatrics for his clan’s pleasure was much easier when you two had first married, but now a simple argument had him uneasy. He knew you were still upset and he knew he was partially at fault.

He slowly makes his way through the halls of his home as his mind wanders. To be fair, he thought you were partially to blame as well. You just had to keep prying no matter how many times he had refuted your remarks. His walking comes to a slow halt as he thinks of what you said the night prior. Was his absence affecting you that much? A selfish part of him is satisfied with your longing for him, yet he again feels frustration when he thinks of his attachment to you as well. And it stings to think that he is once again failing as your husband. He should’ve been attentive, he knows you need it. And yet he is mindfully absent for his own heart’s sake, or maybe for its penance. He sighs as he opens the door to find you already there. He is about to utter your name as you turn around until his eyes catch sight of the jewel that adorns your hair. His breath hitches and his heart beats a little faster.

Before you can even greet him, his voice clamors through your room.

“Take that out of your hair and put it back where you found it. Now” he hisses.

You narrow your eyes, so he did notice it although you weren’t expecting such a visceral response. “No.”

He clenches his jaw and steps forward, you take a step back. “Why do you want me to take it off?” you say in an accusatory tone. ‘So much for resting.’

“Because I am your husband, and I am asking you to remove it” he responds. You raise an eyebrow, you can tell he is trying to maintain an undisturbed aura but it is not working. “And I am your wife, telling you I am not taking it off,” you respond and smile up at him. “Maybe if you told me why you want me to remove it so badly, I’d be more inclined to do so.”

He sighs as if he is tired and you speak up again, “Because if you don’t, it makes me wonder if this was a gift for someone else.”

His jaw practically drops, “Do you think so low of me?”

“What else am I supposed to think when you’ve hidden this pin away?” You hastily take off the hairpin and flash it in front of him. He steps forward and reaches to take it but you take another step back. You know he could snatch it right out of your hand before you even had a chance to realize that he’s done so. Therefore some part of you appreciates his failure to do so.

You cross your arms with the pin still in hand, “Bi-Han, why would you hide this away?” You bite your lip out of nervousness.

He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re fretting over things you don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand.”

You can tell how frustrated he is by the way he clenches his fists and the deep breath he takes. But you watch how his face changes, from frustration to disdained haughtiness. He steps forward once more and by now your back is against the wall.

He eyes you up and down and his eyebrows furrow. “Give me the hairpin.”

You sigh, he does look slightly unnerving to you, but you will not allow such tactics to sway you. “Intimidate me all you want, we both know it won’t work with me, I know you well enough by now.” If you were honest, this whole ordeal made you feel like you didn’t know him at all.

Bi-Han’s hands come to rest on your shoulders. “You don’t know me.”

You let out a defeated laugh. How were you supposed to spend the rest of your life with someone that refused to communicate? The very thought unnerved you. “Then help me fix that!” you respond in an exasperated tone. “And here I am again, begging you to help me understand. What am I missing here? And do not lie to me. How long would you have us both dance around this unspoken issue?”

He shakes his head in a defeated manner, it doesn’t suit him, “Don’t concern yourself with such things.”

You shoot him an angry look, “I concern myself because it involves us. I am your wife and I can’t read your mind,” You hiss and motion towards yourself. “What is it? Are you ashamed of me? I’m sorry.” You tried to maintain a calm demeanor but your voice is shrill by now. You shove the hairpin into his chest and attempt to push him away from you, but the pin falls to the floor as his hands wrap around your shoulders. The look in his eyes screams of intensity, while yours remain seeped in anger.

‘Sorry?’

Why would you be sorry? It’s his fault. He hated to even acknowledge the fact, but it was true. Had he been present, had he been there, none of this would’ve happened. Had he been a proper husband, he would’ve kept you safe.

Just another task he’s failed at.

“There is nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes, there is,” you respond stubbornly.

He stares at you, his look has now become unreadable to you. “I am the one who failed you.”

That statement of his brings you pause. You tilt your head up and lean forward rather confused. You would never take him as one to admit failure of any sort.

“Failed me at what? What do you mean?” Your throat feels dry as you await a response. What could he possibly be going on about? Your hand moves up to squeeze his hand gently, urging him to continue. His eyebrows are still furrowed, and you hear him gulp before he speaks. “If I had been more watchful, you would not have been taken or injured in the first place.”

Oh.

He had saved you, you were living and breathing before him, yet that’s what had been on his mind. Your resolve falters a bit. You didn’t realize it was that, and here you were worrying that he was ashamed of you. Perhaps you’ve thought too little of yourself. You had taken the increasing distance for a perpetual disking, not quiet insecurity.

“I- I thought it was something else. I thought it was me, or the state of our marriage-”

He cuts you off, “What do you mean.” His voice is a little quieter now.

“Bi-Han.”

“Answer me.” He sighs in a tone that echos remorse, “please.”

You gaze up at him as his eyes lock on yours. His heart is beating fast, and he hates it. His facade is crumbling before you.

He hates it.

“We were married off too quickly, I didn’t think things through, I did not realize what I was getting myself into.” You look back at him now, searching for a hint of emotion in his face, but he does his best to remain stoic. Still, you place a hand on his cheek, and the sensation of his jaw clenching is felt on your fingers.

You feel his hand cover yours, you wonder if he’s trying to remove your touch.

“Are you attempting to imply that you’re not happy with our arrangement?-“ he cuts himself off. He was about to snap at you. Say that he can bring you back home to your original clan if that’s what you desire, that he’d end things amicably. However he knows he could never do that, he’d rather keep you locked away for himself. Would that be another sentiment of his selfishness? It is. He’s been pushing you away, but the thought of you actually leaving strikes fear into his heart.

You shake your head vigorously, “No, I was uneasy initially, but I’m happy when you are actually around.” You drop your hands and clutch at the fabric of your own dress. “I want you around. I feel safer with you around. I miss you.” You say softly. You almost feel like a child, confessing feelings of fondness. Surely you’ve told him you missed him before? But this is different. His hand comes to rest against your cheek, drawing your attention back up to him.

You miss him. And truthfully, he misses you too. You will not live forever, neither will he. Your time together is finite. He desires your time. He desires your affection, your presence. Why in the world has he been depriving himself of something you’ve been so willing to give? He knows, but his burning inhibitions are beginning to quiet down as he looks back at you. The look on your face has morphed into something sincere, so genuine. You reach out to him with open arms, offering up a place of solace that he’s been desperately craving since he was a boy. He engulfs you in his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck, almost as if he’s trying to shield himself from his own shortcomings. It’s against his very nature, but he can’t help himself, not anymore.

The words spill out like vomit. Repulsive to him. But it’s soothing to your ears, it serves as an assurance that you’ve yet to lose him.

“I endangered you. I nearly lost you.” His tone is so wrath with what you liken to regret, that it pains you.

“I should have known better, I should have kept a better eye on you. What if you had gotten gravely injured? What if you were killed? It’s my fault. How am I fit to be your husband when I’ve failed at the simplest of duties? If I can’t even keep you out of harm's way, how am I to be cognizant of the safety of my clan?.” His voice falters the slightest bit as he speaks.

“It’s not your fault. If it weren’t for you I would not be alive.” You say quietly.

Neither of you faces the other as you speak, only hiding away in the embrace that shields each other to some degree. But you can’t bear it anymore. You attempt to pull away, to look at him face to face, and guarantee that he believes you when you vocalize your assurance. But he doesn’t let you. His grip on you is firm, his fingers dig into your sides as if he’s trying to keep you from disappearing. “Don’t.” He speaks so quietly, it’s unlike him. Your fingers graze the back of his neck before you find yourself petting his hair, you’re content when he doesn’t pull away.

“I-I am inadequate. I just didn’t think about how dangerous your line of work is. It didn’t occur to me until I was caught up in the middle of it. If I had been more aware of my surroundings, or if I had trained harder then maybe I wouldn’t have been in such a vulnerable situation.”

“Don’t speak of yourself that way.”

You shrug your shoulders lightly, “I’m only stating how I feel. And we both know that’s true.” You murmur.

“What good do you get out of blaming yourself?”

“Couldn’t I ask you the same thing?”

He doesn’t respond and you gently tug at his hair, “Bi-Han?”

“It’s not the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“How can I not blame myself? I foolishly let my guard down, when I’ve been trained to never do so.”

You’re quiet for a moment. That day had been enjoyable for you both, you wouldn’t expect him nor yourself to have predicted the unfortunate events of that day.

“You’ve acknowledged that it’s happened, but as you said yourself, what good will constantly punishing yourself do? What’s done is done, and I am thankful that you kept me from greater harm.” You hold onto him tighter as you speak. “I see how you’re punishing yourself, don’t you understand that hurts me more than whatever happened that day?” You mumble quietly.

You hear his breath hitch. “That is not my intention.”

“But that’s what’s been happening.” You try to tear away from his grip, and he reluctantly lets you go so that you’re able to face him. You cup the sides of his face within the palms of your hands. “I care for you, we’ve been bound by marriage and I take that commitment seriously. I want to bear your burdens with you, haven’t I shown that I want to be by your side as we endure this life?”

His hands come up to grip your wrists as if he were to remove them from his face, but he refrains from doing so, “You don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“But I do,” you counter. You find yourself leaning closer. “I’ve experienced what risks come with your line of work now, and that is by no fault of either of us. Do you not think that I would have fled back to my clan had I truly wanted to leave? I’ve seen you drenched in the blood of your enemies and I still crave your presence. You’ve been deluding yourself.” You take a deep breath. “I vowed to remain with you through times of sickness and in health, through prosperity and devastation. Until my last breath.” Your hands move to the base of his neck and you tug him to get closer to you, he leans down slightly as you speak again “I expect you to vow the same. And to uphold those vows as I do.”

Maybe it is the haziness of words finally spoken, or the surge of warmth and tenderness coursing through his once cold veins, but before you can finish your sentiments you feel lips crashing into yours and desperate hands grasping at your waist. There’s a messy fervor to the kiss, an accumulation of unbridled longing and lingering frustration. Your teeth clash in between gasps and the colliding of lips. He pulls away briefly and you see the red tint emerging on his swollen lips. You find it enticing. Your fingertips brush up against his lips, “swear the same to me.” His hand rests on the back of your head as his lips make their way to trail from your jaw and down your neck. “I vow to remain by your side in sickness and in health, through prosperity and devastation.” Your breathing picks up, and you grip his shoulders.

“For how long?” You mumble.

“Until my final breath.”

His knee is pushing forward as he speaks, coming to rest in between your thighs and you slowly feel as if it’s becoming harder to maintain your composure. His hands encase you and before you can protest, he’s laid you on the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows as he looms over you with both of his hands resting at your sides. In this moment you are reminded of how imposing his stature is. Excitement and nervousness blend into a sensation that makes your heart beat frantically. You look up at him, and he shifts his eyes from your gaze. You reach up and lightly tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear.

“Are you sure you wish to do this?” He says in a formal tone. His seriousness almost makes you chuckle.

Although you didn’t expect the evening to lead to this, you’re far too eager to refuse.“I am,” you respond as one of your hands trails his bicep. Meanwhile, his hand undoes the sash tied around your waist. His fingers move slowly, almost methodically now as he begins to remove your dress, you’re left in your undergarments and you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Bi-Han slows down the pace and wonders if you are at all as nervous as he is. He excels at whatever he pursues and he thinks this should be no different, but when he’s not purely acting on instinct and has a moment to think, his mind wanders. He wonders if he will live up to your expectations. He tries not to speculate on if you’ve done this before with someone else, the very thought makes his blood boil. But these thoughts dissipate when your hand begins to undo his belt. He swiftly grabs your wrist and you give him a lazy smile, “I don’t want to be the only one undressed, I’d rather we be on equal footing.”

That was an excuse, you were actually eager to marvel at his physique.

He lets go of your wrist and sits back as he takes off his shirt. Your hand runs down his chest and abdomen. Bi-Han’s body appears as if it was sculpted, harboring the finest architecture. His skin is somewhat dry, but cool to the touch. As your hands drift along his torso you attempt to commit every curve and crevice to memory. Soon enough your arms wrap around his neck and you drag him down with you as you press your lips against his again and again. His hand slips to your back, attempting to undo the pesky layer of clothing shielding your chest from him. When he does get it off, you watch him toss it aside. You’ll scold him later about being so careless with your clothing. But your thoughts return to the activity at hand when, suddenly his hands are exploring your chest. His hands are rough and calloused against your skin, a stark contrast to your own. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you. You feel him smile against your lips but you pull away again and he takes the opportunity to drag his lips along your throat.

Your eyes are still closed as you run your fingers through his hair. It’s been so long since you’ve engaged in any form of physical intimacy, and to indulge to this degree with him is still so new to you. “I’m still somewhat mad, you know.”

He’s quiet for a moment as his lips traverse down your chest and stomach, occasionally allowing his teeth to graze your skin. “I would not fault you for it, allow me to make amends.”

“And how will you do that?” you mumble. He shifts his position downwards, hooking his fingers into the sides of your underwear, and just like that, the last piece of clothing veiling your body is gone. His gaze is greedy as he eyes your exposed form and you instinctively shut your legs. Only to have your husband take hold of your thighs and spread them apart. He allows his fingers to explore uncharted territory. And he takes note of your expressions as he does so. He drags a finger down your slit, intentionally lowering his body temperature so that you tremble at his touch. You want to grab something, and so your arms reach out towards him instinctively and there’s a sense of satisfaction that settles in his soul, watching you grasp at him when you’re so vulnerable like this. One of his hands takes hold of both of yours, kissing them. He runs his thumb across the scar on your left wrist, and he realizes it must be from the rope that day. It must have burned when it continuously chafed against your skin to the point of drawing blood.

“BI-Han?”

Oh.

He hasn’t realized he’s stopped the movement of his fingers, and that he’s been focused on your wrist more than he should be at this moment. He places one more kiss against the scar. You smile hesitantly, “So that you remember, I’m not upset about that.”

You are far too kind, too forgiving towards him. He does not respond but returns to his endeavors between your legs. You feel two of his fingers enter you and gasp in response. He maintains a constant motion, catching you off guard when his thumb moves to caress a certain bundle of nerves.

Maybe this is his desire to please you, to make amends for his behavior somehow, or maybe it’s his need to excel, to prove that he’s the best you’ll ever have. He doesn’t know exactly. He doesn’t know when such inclinations formed within him. He thought he’d be more concerned with chasing his own pleasure, but for now, it’s an afterthought. And before he knows it, his lips are brushing against your inner thigh.

A high-pitched gasp leaves your lips when he begins. You cover your mouth, surprised not only at the sounds that have left your mouth but additionally at his skill. You feel his hand reach up only to roughly tug at your arm, “do not hold yourself back,” he says gruffly. You can’t even bring yourself to respond. The man works wonders with his tongue. Your brain allows you to focus on nothing but your husband’s oral expertise.

Until your notation of his skill causes you to wonder.

You grab a fistful of his hair and pull it lightly. Causing him to grunt and look up at you. His lips are slick.

“Where did you learn to do this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You groan and pull his hair a tad harder. A small laugh leaves his lips, he will spare you for now.

You’re thinking about how you like the sound of his laughter when he responds. “You need to pay attention to your belongings.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been reading your novels. They are descriptive.”

You feel even more heat rush up to your face as he returns to his venture between your thighs. You didn’t realize he’d been reading those books, part of you is embarrassed at him being aware of some of the content you prefer. However, if he puts his newly gained knowledge to use, you don’t mind him snooping on your reading material.

Tension begins to build but your husband deprives you of reaching that peak of pleasure just yet. You laugh breathlessly, “You’re being cruel. Was this meant to make amends or punish me?” His fingertips take hold of your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Patience, wife.”

The longing look in your eyes only fuels his desire for you. His arm hooks around your waist to drag up back up toward the front of the bed. And perhaps he’s become too eager, the growing ache in his pants is becoming harder to ignore. You watch as he hastily removes his remaining clothing. Your eyes travel downwards and you’re happy to find that your original suspicions were correct, he was well endowed. Bi-Han catches your line of sight and grabs your chin to make you look up at him again. “Shameless.”

You smile, “Can you blame me? I’ve been curious since our wedding night.” He raises an eyebrow, he supposes you were equally as curious as he was back then. You reach out a hand to touch him, touch it, but he catches your wrist, using the opportunity to quickly pin you back down to the bed.

“You must learn restraint.” Bi-Han knew he was teasing you but he was just as guilty. His eyes drank in the image of your exposed form. His hands move to travel down your body, groping and grasping at the flesh displayed before him. Your skin is oh-so-soft, and his fingers return once again to the heat between your legs. The sounds leaving your mouth make him feel dizzy with desire and he finds himself impatient. “Spread your legs.”

Before you respond, his hands grip your thighs to spread them apart.

He leans down and his cold breath mingles with yours as you gently take hold of his face in your hands.

He doesn’t speak. The situation almost doesn't seem real to him. Words would not be able to articulate what his feelings are at this moment, so he entrusts his touch to convey his affection and desire for you. Between kisses pressed to your lips and the connecting of your flesh, he finds bliss between your legs. His body acts on instinct, the feeling is maddening. Is this what he has been lacking in life? For a brief moment, he recalls tales of war and battles raged for the sake of woman’s love, for her affections and touch. Perhaps for the first time in his life, he can understand that reasoning.

But he is brought out of his trance when you let out a shaky breath and grasp him hard enough for your nails to leave red indents. He pulls back to see your face contort into pain and quickly removes himself out of a mix of embarrassment and concern.

He was hurting you.

In the past, perhaps he wouldn’t have cared, but he does now. He cares that he’s hurt you, and a part of him is ashamed that he became so lost in his own pleasures. Guilt is evident in the way he scowls and turns his face. You sit up and reach out a hand before he can even think to come up with a retort or retreat.

“It’s normal, stop it.” You practically tug him back on top of you. You know in the past, you wouldn’t make the effort to assure him, you wouldn’t long for him like this, but you do now. His arms rest on either side of you again and his eyebrows furrow when you graze your lips against the corner of his mouth. “Go slow at first, please.” And so he complies. The stinging emerges again and you scare him when your eyes shut in what appears like distress to him, prompting Bi-Han to halt his pace again. “… Are you positive you wish to engage in this with me.” His tone of voice is timid almost, a stark contrast to what you’re used to hearing.

“I’m certain.”

And so he continues, and soon the pain begins to delve into pleasure. You find yourself lost in ecstasy. Briefly, you think of how carefully his hands hold onto. How hands capable of killing could hold you so close. His hips continuously collide with yours and you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him nearer. Obscene melodies echo throughout the room prompting your husband to pick up the pace. You know there’s a possibility that your voices might leak into the hallway. You know your nails are digging into his skin as you hold onto him for leverage, and you are aware that your skin will be littered with bruises and bite marks. But you could care less right now. Those will be problems to address later. For now, the physical sensation is all you can bring yourself to focus on.

Had Bi-Han known this is what consummating your relationship truly felt like, perhaps he would have taken you on the wedding night. But no, it wouldn’t feel this passionate, this consuming. You draw him in and the pleasure makes him practically feel intoxicated The sounds that escape your lips only heighten the experience. The way your nails drag down his back only reinvigorates him. His hands tangle in your hair and you feel his breathing pick up. His teeth graze your neck and you feel a distinct pressure building up within you. You assume he does as well when the grip he has on your body tightens enough to leave imprints. You’re left panting when he finishes, his seed dripping from your core and staining your thighs.

He seems as if he’s in a daze, breathing heavily as his eyes drag ever so slowly up your form. The image of you breathing heavily while sprawled out in front of him is one that he’d like to commemorate to memory.

But now the euphoria delves into exhaustion. His body weight becomes increasingly difficult it holds up as if his soul is luring him to rest. And before he knows it, he’s not bothering to hold himself up anymore. He’s lying against you, and he can feel your arms wrap around him once more. But the feeling is short-lived.

“You’re heavy, get off.” You groan. Maybe it’s the endorphins running through his veins, but he finds your annoyance endearing. He lazily rolls off of you and watches the rise and fall of your chest as you attempt to catch your breath. Sweat glistens on your skin.

You catch his gaze and cross your arms over your chest. “How shameless,” you tease.

He reaches over to move your arms out of the way, and you allow him to.

“You seduced me, take it as a compliment.”

You chuckle lightly, “Noted.” You shift onto your side to face him. Bi-Han still looks effortlessly flawless. He hasn’t even broken a sweat in your recent activities, at least it looks that way to you. You move closer to him, enough so that you’re able to rest your head against his chest. “Aren’t you tired?” You inquire. Your husband shakes his head, “somewhat.” His movements are languid as he drapes an arm over your shoulder and presses a kiss to your forehead.

You let out a small chuckle. “What is it?” He asks.

“I could never imagine you behaving in such an endearing manner when we first met.”

“I’ve exceeded your expectations then,” he says in a factual tone of voice.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply jokingly.

He raises an eyebrow, “is that a challenge?”

And suddenly he’s maneuvered himself to loom over you once more. His lips hover over yours as he awaits your answer. Your body is worn out, you can feel a dull ache blooming between your legs, and perhaps your response is against your better judgment.

“Yes.”

——————————

The sunlight casts a warm glow as it enters your bedroom, and in time it nudges you awake. As your eyes flutter open slowly, you find your husband watching over you. “Good morning,” You say and smile as you reach out a hand to caress your husband’s cheek. He lays his hand over yours. “Good morning.” He takes your hand and presses a small kiss to your knuckles. “Did you sleep well?”

You chuckle lightly, “You put me right to sleep last night, I am well rested.” You try to shift your position but grimace at the soreness residing between your legs. “I may spend all day in bed.”

A smirk flashes across your husband’s face and you shoot him a pensive look, albeit lightheartedly.

You move to rest against him but stop when you remember the hairpin. “Bi-Han-“ you start off, but it’s as if he could already anticipate your question before you had a chance to ask. He holds the accessory between his fingertips. “In the chaos of the evening, it was displaced.” He appears the slightest bit hesitant but hands the pin back to you. “It was for you, or rather it is for you.” You smile faintly “It matches my necklace perfectly.”

“That’s why I selected it that day.” His voice trails off slowly. His silence echoes his sincerity and you smile softly at him.

“I’ll cherish it. Thank you.”

Your simple acknowledgment is enough to put him at ease now, but he still appears contemplative.

“What is it?”

These words seldom leave his mouth, but when conversing with you, the words now flow with ease. “I am sorry, I pushed you away and laid the brunt of my problems on you simultaneously.”

“I won’t hold it against you.” You move to lay your head against his chest. “I’ll allow you the rest of our lives to make it up to me. You swore to stay with me til death, after all.”

“Of course.”

You smile and soon enough you find your eyelids feeling heavy again. You close your eyes, and the sensation of your husband’s hand gliding up and down your back accompanies the calming rhythm of his heartbeat. You know that this life won’t be easy, but something tells you that you will be okay.

That you both will be okay.

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This is the last chapter as far as things go right now. Maybe in the future I'll post some one shots that take place in this fic's universe though. Thanks for sticking around and bearing with me for taking so long with this upload. And of course, thanks for reading 💙

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tiredfox64 · 21 days

Note

Hellooo! First of all, I love your fics, especially Tomas's. They are very entertaining and the way you write is just great ^^

This is more of a question than a request, although you can develop it further if you want.

How would the linkuei trio react to a s/o who says "I hate men... except you"

It came to me out of nowhere and I thought it was funny 🙃

There Are Exceptions

Prior notes: Hehehe I throughly enjoyed writing this. Also I forgot to say this with other people’s requests who gave me compliments but thank you so much for liking my writing! (*´∀｀*)

Pairing: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Men

Bi-Han

These dim witted, nitwit goobers who serve your husband are too much to handle. All they know how to do is punch and kick. They have no other survival instincts that can save their asses.

It’s so tiring being the one to try to help them with whatever. A woman can only do so much.

You tried teaching them how to sew only for them to say something stupid like it’s a woman’s hobby. Forget about cooking. You have never seen someone screw up scramble eggs so much that it doesn’t even form. How the fuck does it stay watery? And why are you the only one who knows how to fold clothes? Screw steaming out their wrinkles.

Your last straw today came in the nighttime when one of the clansmen came up to you and ask the most stupidest question you have ever heard.

“Uhm, some of the men were telling me that a woman’s period was when she peels her skin every month. Is that true? Cause if it is you hide it well.” This clueless assassin…oh goodness.

You just stared blankly at the young man. It had to be a joke, right? They can’t be that stupid. Actually, you don’t want to know if they are that stupid. You walked away briskly with one thing on your mind and you had to shout it out. The moment you walk into your bedroom you slammed the door shut and screamed,

“I hate men!”

Bi-Han was already in bed, waiting for you to come around. He stared at you with that grumpy expression he always has before folding his arms in front of his chest. A low grumble was being emitted by him.

How can you say you hate men when you are married to one? One that treats you like the queen you are considered you are the grandmaster’s wife. He is also one who pleasures you till you are fully satisfied. Course, it’s more like you have to go on until he is satisfied.

“…except you.”

“Mhm, that’s right. I should be the exception here. I am the grandmaster, I deserve your full respect.” Bi-Han reminded you of his role as if he doesn’t do so every day.

“And you are also my husband,” you walked up to him and placed a kiss on his forehead, “Now would you mind spooning me for tonight.”

“After that outburst, I am unsure if you deserve it.” Now he’s just being petty.

You pouted as you changed into your sleepwear. If Bi-Han looked for at least five seconds he would have caved. But he looked away immediately to prevent himself from changing his decision. You huffed as you slipped into bed. You went on your side and pretended like you didn’t care. You did because you always lost the idgaf war.

“Please, I love you.” You said over your shoulder.

Bi-Han let out a groan before turning over and wrapping his arms around your waist. Haha you win.

You may not like men but you love this man. You like this man because he’s your man.

Kuai Liang

Why does no one think of the logical answer to something?

You go out to the market all the time so you could help feed the Shirai Ryu. It helps lessen responsibilities for your husband. But even this simple task is made difficult and stupid because of some of the venders. More specifically the men.

You asked for watermelon and they hand you plastic containers with the funkiest bits of watermelon. They are discolored and are definitely past their ripeness. Yet they all tell you it’s fine. It’s not fine! It’s not good quality! Why even cut the watermelon in the first place you can do it yourself!

You want some mangos? Well you can’t fucking have any because they don’t got it. Oh what’s that? A BUNCH OF FUCKING MANGOS RIGHT BEHIND THEM! And they tell you that those are honey mangoes you didn’t specifically ask for those. They told you no because they thought you wanted Haden mangoes. Just give the woman a fucking mango!

You’re so over those male venders. They never even help you pack the carts up.

You’re too tired went you get back to the temple. You let everyone else pack the food away without helping out this time. You can’t be bothered. You take your shoes off, step into the temple, and sigh heavily.

“I hate men.” You groaned.

You didn’t realize Kuai Liang was coming up to you to greet you. You looked up and saw his face. He stared blankly with a bit of concern.

“…except you.”

You wanted to make it right so you ran up to him, giving him many kisses and hugging him.

“What has made you so hateful, my love? Did someone at the market bother you?” He asked with concern.

Kuai Liang was not at all mad at what you said. He found it odd which meant there was something wrong. His hands went up to check if maybe it was something physical. He would hate to find out you were hurt while out. What kind of husband would he be if he can’t protect his wife?

“Many people bothered me at the market today. Some people are unfortunate stupid.” You replied.

“Perhaps you can tell me all about it in bed. I’ll make you some tea to help with the stress.” He took your hands as you both walked to the bedroom.

Kuai Liang is the kind of man you need in your life. If only the men at the market had his intelligence. Though you do like being cared for when there is any sign of distress from you. It makes you feel like a princess.

Tomas

To help train the Earthrealm champions is like trying to train a seal, a kangaroo, a bison, and a Komodo dragon to leap at least a meter out of the water. One will succeed, another will jump but not reach it, another one won’t try to jump, and the other will be too busy trying to mate with you.

They are all nice in their own way but Johnny is the worst of them all. You tell him you are happily married and it’s in one ear and out the other. Just because his marriage failed doesn’t mean yours has to.

Kenshi is alright he just has stubborn. He believes it’s nerves that wins fights. If that were true why does he keep failing to you. And when he is not going against you he’s going after Johnny’s throat. You get it, Johnny won’t give back Sento. But now is not the time to bust his ass.

Kung Lao just gets on everyone’s nerves. You have never seen a bunch of monks ready to implode and strangle someone. Don’t forget that you almost lost your head because he flung his hat in the wrong direction. All you got back was a small ‘sorry’ before he took his hat and ran off.

And Raiden…he’s fine. He’s done no wrong.

Yet no matter what you always have to return and help the fools. You give and give and what do you receive? Hell!

You are exhausted when you return home. You don’t talk to anyone you just go straight to your bedroom. You let out a groan the whole time and when the door closes you let that groan become words.

“I hate men.”

Tomas was already waiting for you in the bedroom. He was walking up to you to hug you until he heard those words. He looked concerned and even a little sad.

Well he’s a man, do you hate him? Did he do something wrong? He hopes he didn’t, he doesn’t want an unhappy wife.

Your attitude immediately went away at the sight of Tomas.

“…except you.”

You ran into his arms and hugged him tight. You could never hate a man like Tomas. He is your husband after all. You picked a good one compared to all the other men that you have seen.

“I’m guessing they upset you again.” He asked.

You nodded. The day is already over you don’t feel like talking about every single stupid thing that they did. Tomas understood and hugged you tight.

“Do you want me to beat them up?” He whispered jokingly in your ear.

For once today you laughed. He always manages to bring a smile to your face. You wish you could let him but that would be a bad decision. Though it’s funny to think about. He was just happy to hear that wonderful laugh of yours. It just shows that he’s a good man to you. He can turn a frown upside down and make you see the good in men. Or at least the good in him.

After notes: Can you tell I got pissed off with Kuai Liang’s part? That shits a little too true. Those instacart tik toks be crazy. Here’s a little experience of when I hated men: one didn’t take no for an answer for YEARS. He still can’t take no even from other girls. But most of the men I know are good. Alright enough yip yap I must march on. Adiós!

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glader13 · 6 months

Text

Saudade

Bi-Han x reader

Saudade: a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains"

You didn’t know why you agreed to go to the Summer Festival, the last time being four years ago. You didn’t know why you agreed to go to the festival when all your friends were married, though not intentionally, and would barely have time for you. You sighed, staring at yourself in the mirror, as you put on the last of your makeup. Your jewelry box caught your eye, flashing in the light of your room as you slowly put away the makeup supplies, your heart twisting. The last time your ring saw the light was four years ago.

You opened the box, tracing the ring. Its diamonds, shined as you turned it over in your hand, tilting it to see the engraving: for my love. Simple, but beautiful. You softly laughed to yourself, who knew people could miss being in an arranged marriage? You put the ring on, holding your hand out, an old thrill running through your heart.

I wonder if Bi-Han does this? If he misses me? Before you could dwell on the thought, a knock on your bedroom door gave the news that your friends had arrived. You softly kissed your ring, wishing that it was his lips instead. But the heat on your face ran cold, the thrill gone as his words remerged in your heart. Your night began at Madam Bo’s, a dinner, great. You awkwardly sat at the end of the table, watching your girlfriends practically lie on top of their husbands. You felt yourself staring at their husbands’ faces, noticing how his eyes tracked their movements, their lips always curled in a smile of pride. You even noticed their arm position, around their wife, holding her close, how his lips would grace her ear or neck, whispering words of intimacy.

The scene reminded you all too much of Bi-Han and how you met him through forced proximity. The political parties that you were forced to go to with your parents and brothers, always seeing him there, his dark eyes observant. The red drink at your table you watched being poured and then shared with your friends and their husbands, reminding you of when you actually talked to Bi-Han. You were bored of the party, and sneaking glances in his direction, you decided to walk out for some fresh air.

You didn’t see him and neither did he see you, it was like running into a wall. His drink ruined your white dress, and you found it cute how his face, usually so stoic as you have noticed at past parties, matched the color of his drink. Your first words to him, “You can apologize by helping me get this out of my dress.” The next day, he personally delivered you a new white dress, and you now had someone to talk to at parties. This didn’t go unnoticed by your parents and his father, who watched the two of you talk.

You stabbed at your food, smiling your way through the dinner as Bi-Han occupied your mind and jealousy clawed at your heart. You mindlessly listened to the conversations around you: someone was going off on vacation, one of your friends decided to have a summer home in the countryside and one is expecting, again. You remember your friends' confusion as to why you were so upset over the ending of your arranged marriage, though Bi-Han called things off before the ceremony could happen.

You weren’t surprised when your parents told you that you were going to marry him, it made sense. They were trying to expand their political power, and what better way to do so than by marrying into the most powerful clan? The only aspect of your life that you were able to control was your desire for medicine, and becoming a physician. You let out a sigh, heart twisting again.

“I’m going to the bar,” you announced, though you only got a nod and a half-hearted question asking if you were okay. The bar was no better, surrounded by men whose actions reminded you of teenagers, lacking the respect that Bi-Han has. Their stares were unashamed, some even sat close to you, the smell of alcohol on their breath making you thankful for the days that you trained with Bi-Han. His reason: “The grandmaster's wife should at least know how to protect herself.”

The festival was no better, trailing behind your friends, and dodging children escaping from their parents. You had no one to light firecrackers with, to share sweets with. Your friends and family were confused by why you refused to have another. Maybe it was because you were haunted by him at night. Feeling his phantom hands around your body, the ghosts of his kisses on your lips. He may have been cold, and hard to talk to, but he made up for it in a love that seemed to undo you at your core. So tender was his love, that it was a gift from a divine power, a gift that only his mother could have given.

No man can come near it, no man can replace it. No matter how hard you try to convince those around you, they can never understand. You snuck away from your group, making your way back to your home, unnoticed. You slipped past your parents, who were in deep conversation, no doubt about you and how you aren’t married, and upstairs to your room. You slip out of your shoes, your hands immediately finding the jewelry box with your engagement ring. You stared at the ring, thinking of the moment when he proposed to you.

Sitting in your shared room, you on the bed and him on the floor in between your legs, you were rubbing ointment on his shoulders and back trying to soothe the pain of his bruises and scratches. You remember the silence being loud and tense, each time his hand idly touched your leg, heat rushed through your body, stealing your breath.

“You’re overstrained,” you said, “Take some time to rest.” He only grumbled in response.

“I’m the doctor here,” you smiled, causing him to squeeze your leg.

“As the future grandmaster, weakness will not be tolerated or shown,” he says. You nod, hearing him sigh in relief as you relieve a tight spot in his back.

He reached up, taking one of your hands in his, “As the future grandmaster, I will also need someone by my side. Someone who is steadfast and loyal,” his hand tightened, slightly becoming cold.

“You have those qualities and more. Treating me with patience and love when I deserved to be yelled at,” he finally turned around, his face a light red, “You always know what to say, and when you’re not next to me I know that I need you.”

“Your love transcends the nature of our marriage, it rubbed off on me. I’m thankful that I spilled my drink on you,” you remember the pounding of your heart as he shakily placed the ring on your finger. He didn’t need to propose, but the fact that he did overwhelm your heart.

You wiped your eyes, watching the water fall from your finger, your mind wondering if he ever thinks back on that moment. He probably doesn’t, you frown, thinking of the slow breakdown of your relationship. In the planning phase of the marriage, his mother died, putting things on hold. You remember the night that he woke you, tears streaming down his eyes, it was the first and only time that you saw him cry. Just as he was beginning to recover and tentatively plan the wedding, his father died in an attack.

That was when your relationship died when he officially became grandmaster. Shutting you out completely, your bedroom filled with silence. The only time that he would have acknowledged you was when you had sex, though even that was impersonal. He watched you leave that day, and it felt like he stabbed you through your chest. You still don’t know if you hate him, a part of you wishes that he would burn, that his frozen heart would stop. But the other part wants nothing more than to hold him, to be in his heart.

The thump on your floor, caused you to jump out of bed. “I need you,” you straightened, hearing his voice.

Bi-Han leaned against the wall, next to your open window. He was breathing heavily, his arm was bloody from a wound, as he held his side, which was coating his fingers red. You led him to your bed, taking off his top, before running downstairs to get your medical supplies. You cleaned his wound on his side first, the only noise was his sharp breathing. He didn’t look at you, well he only did when he thought you weren’t looking at his face.

“What happened?” you found the courage to talk.

“It doesn’t concern you,” he says, causing you to sigh.

“But you came into my room instead of going to your home to get medical help,” you said, “So, it does concern me.”

You felt proud for sticking up for yourself, despite the eye roll that he gave you. You worked in silence again after that, moving to his arm. The steadiness of your hands was a disguise for the erratic pace of your mind and heart. There’s so much you wanted to say, but no words could translate the emotions that you felt, how much you ached for him.

“It was during a mission,” he finally admitted, “Kuai Liang, Tomas, and I were being chased. I distracted the pursuers.”

“Are they alright?” You asked, to which he nodded, saying that they escaped.

You smiled, saying there, as you wrapped his arm. The silence was less tense as you began to put away your supplies, the setting reminding you of the moments when you would tend to his injuries after practices and missions. You felt his eyes track you, throughout the whole process, even as you quickly picked up your ring, placing it in your jewelry box. Once everything was clean, you sat next to him, a frown forming when he slightly moved away from you.

You finally looked at him, and his dark eyes were focused on you. You felt yourself getting lost in the hue, practically drowning, and it felt so good. So good to be lost in those eyes, it felt so good to talk to him. You found yourself feeling like the first time you saw him: staring too hard into his eyes, taking in his facial features, though older still just as handsome as when you first saw him those years ago.

“You went to the festival,” his words were a statement, and you nodded.

You felt him drawing into you. His eyes focused too long on your lips, taking in the specs of your eyes. His eyes were drawn to the small scar on your neck that he accidentally gave you while training. Your face warmed thinking of the times when the two of you would make love and how he always made it a habit to kiss you there. The scar seemed to be connected to your heart because each kiss caused you to become weak. Your sweet perfume of strawberries and peach nectar reminded him of the nights the two of you spent tangled together. You looked beautiful, the red on your dress bringing out your skin. He felt a sting in his heart at the thought of you going out without him, and he didn’t know why.

“I went with my girlfriends,” you say, feeling an odd need to clarify who you went with, “But I left early, a good thing for you.”

Bi-Han slightly relaxed, giving you another nod. You kicked off your shoes and then began to take off your jewelry. Starting with your gold earrings, and rings. You then began to unclasp your necklace, but the lock slipped through your fingers each time you tried. You sighed each time you failed, fighting with yourself to not ask Bi-Han for help. But, you felt the weight of the bed lift before coming back again as he sat behind you. He undid your necklace, quietly saying there.

You thanked him, watching him slightly nod at you. He then began to gather his clothing, causing you to jump up. You grabbed his arm, causing him to pause, “Where are you going?”

“Home,” he said.

“You’re in no condition to leave,” you said, pulling him back.

“I’m fine y/n,” he said, “I don’t need you to baby me.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling annoyance wash over you, yet you didn’t open your mouth. Along with the annoyance, there was something desperate in you trying to keep him there for a little bit longer. He didn’t fight you, though he did tense under your touch, unknowingly to you, but there was something in him that made him keep his arm in your hands.

“You need to stay the night,” you said, “You’re hurt and it’s late. Those people could still be looking for you.”

Gently, you led him back to your bed, as if testing how far you’ll be able to go. He didn’t resist, and that made your heart soar even more. He sat on the edge once again, scarcely meeting your eyes as he asked for blankets to sleep on the floor.

“You’re on the bed,” you say, digging through your drawer to find your sleeping clothes, “I’m not going to let you do that.”

“Besides, we aren’t strangers,” you smiled, “And we did much more than share a bed, remember?”

“We aren’t married y/n,” Bi-Han stated, causing you to frown, “And that alone makes us strangers.”

“Yeah, I wonder why?” Your frown returned as you walked into your bathing room to change. Bi-Han sighed, watching you leave in silence, again.

He walked around your room, trying to busy himself. He looked at the paintings on your wall, and the flowers in the vases. He wandered to your drawer, staring at his reflection, thinking of the time when his eyes weren’t pools of darkness, of loneliness. He lifted your rose-colored jewelry box, his eyes immediately being drawn to the Lin Kuei pendant, to your ring. You didn’t throw it out, you didn’t sell it, and that alone had his heart jump. Though, he didn’t know if it was out of joy that you still keep pieces of him, or out of shame. He wants to find out, but not tonight.

You found him sitting on one side of your bed, facing the window. He was more relaxed, his dark hair falling over his shoulders as he briefly looked at you. You pretended not to notice the small patches of ice underneath his hands, as you blew out the candles. In bed, the two of you slept with your backs facing each other, the word goodnight stuck in your throat. You snuggled deeper into your blanket, the silence allowing your brain to scream as you thought of his last words to you, how his lips curled in indifference.

“Do you even care about me?” You asked, “You changed so much, so different from the person who spilled their drink on me.”

“What’s your point?” He asked, “People change.”

“But people don’t shut out their lover, their wife,” you walked closer to him.

“A wife that I didn’t choose,” his words were worse than being injured, “A marriage that is in line with my responsibility of being grandmaster.”

“Is that all that I am now? What happened to the words that you said when you proposed?” You remember feeling the pain swell in your chest, like an angry sea, “Did you mean those words? Do you even love me anymore?”

He never answered you.

He never gave a damn, you thought, I was just another responsibility. But you hoped that you were more, and there was a time that you were. You finally slept cleaning the stray tear, wondering if he was sleeping or staring at you in the dark.

Bi-Han woke up at the first light, quietly groaning from his injuries. He immediately looked at you, sometime during the night you turned to face him, your hand slightly reaching outward. Reminding him of the sunlight-soaked mornings when he would get up for training as you still slept. He leaned forward, noticing a slight flutter of your eyes, how the soft orange light made your skin glow. He would have leaned forward even further, kissing your face, whispering that he was going to train.

Would’ve.

He quickly got dressed, leaving as quietly as he came. Back at home, he stalked to his room, ignoring his brothers’ questions. He pulled open his drawer, dug through his clothes, and pulled out a ring. He stared at it, turning it in his hand. He clutched it in his hand, resting his forehead. He thought that he would be free from the ghosts of regrets, he believed that he conquered them all. Until that night with you, wanting to talk, but not being able to. But he wanted to, so desperately. He wanted to fix the words that caused you to leave him, that ruined his life. But he doesn’t how to talk, at least that’s what he tells himself as he places his ring back in the drawer.

You woke up with the smell of him in your nose, the smell comforting. However, as you reached out, you were met with air. You turned over letting out a sigh, not knowing why you were expecting him to be there when you woke up. That morning and even that day, you spent it in a haze, thinking of your night with Bi-Han. He was constantly on your mind, as you checked in on patients, and had lunch with your friends. With every word about her new countryside home and the annoyances with the building process, it went through one ear as you thought of when he sat so close behind you, the coldness from his body radiating off of him. You couldn’t help but wish that last night led to something more. That he said something more. But he left, again, he’s always leaving. Despite the hurt, you wanted to see him again, you would do anything to see him again. You don’t know why your love is so stubborn when it has all the right to leave. But you hoped to see him again, to say the words that you couldn’t say.

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gtgbabie0 · 6 months

Text

-Liu Kang x Reader

{A soft moment between you and Liu Kang}

Super fluffy and very domestic!! Hope you enjoy my lovelies! 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Evenings in the Shaolin monastery never fail to take your breath away, how the pink and orange hues from the setting sun seem to bleed together, casting its warm light across the horizon. You admire the beauty of the scenery from the quaint little space you found. Hidden away from the other monks, a small open room lit by candles, where you could enjoy some tea in peace.

You allow your mind to drift as you take a deep breath, taking in the sounds of nature and distant water, only to be pleasantly interrupted by Liu Kang as he enters your quaint space with consideration, careful, so as to not rip you away from your meditative state.

“Nice of you to join me” you smile, shuffling to make space on the wooden floor for him to sit beside you, and he does so without hesitation, sitting on the blanket you laid upon the floor, “How did you find me?” You wonder as he looks at you with soft eyes.

“I couldn’t find you anywhere, I figured you’d be here” he explains, his hands finding yours, stopping you from pouring him some tea. “How is your head?” He tilts his chin slightly as he caresses your cheek, thumb soothing the space under your eye.

You had told him you weren’t feeling all too well this morning, way before he left to help Raiden and Kung Lao with whatever needed their attention around the Shaolin Temple. He had offered to look after you, the ever-caring man that he was, but yet his duties called him and he was whisked away from you.

Liu Kang can’t help but smile as you lean into his warm hand, the fabric of his bandages are rough against your skin but that doesn’t stop you. “A lot better than this morning” you hum, fingers wrapping around his wrist, gently bringing his hands down to your lap.

“Nothing some ginger tea couldn’t help” You begin unwrapping the bandages from his hands ever so carefully. He relishes in the way it feels, almost as if the tension from him unravels along with the tough cloth. You take a moment to run your fingertips across his slightly calloused palms, making a mental note to buy more hand cream.

The absence of the sun brings a cold chill, one that causes a shiver to run down your spine. Liu Kang notices, and with a soft frown, he reaches from behind you, picking up the knitted shawl and draping it over your shoulders before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Mhm, I am glad to hear” he whispers, shuffling to sit behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as you continue to drink the warm liquid. “Tomorrow I am all yours my heart, the two of us can do whatever you please,” he says and you don't have to look at him to know there's a smirk on his lips.

His chest blooms with warmth at the way you giggle, a sound Liu Kang couldn’t possibly ever get bored of, “Whatever I please? Hmm, you might come to regret saying that” There’s a certain playfulness in your words that only drives Liu Kang to hold you tighter, peppering your shoulder with soft kisses.

“Learn from it… perhaps, but regret I could never, every moment with you is deeply cherished” his words carry a certain weight to them, something that doesn’t go amiss as his lips continue to playfully trail up towards your jaw.

“Like you learned from the baking incident?” you remind him of the series of unfortunate events all over again. How the sweet treat ended up being terribly charred and completely inedible. You can feel Liu Kang's chest rise and fall from behind you as he laughs, calloused hands slipping into your own.

“Yes, I learned not to let you distract me” he teases, thumb soothing along your knuckles. Another gust of wind pushes through the trees, and you’re thankful that the god of fire is sitting behind you, holding you close to him. But despite his warm presence, he still notices the goosebumps that invade your body and the slight shiver that crawls through your spine.

“Let’s go home before you catch a cold” he whispers, lips grazing against your ear before standing up. The loss of his warmth hits you suddenly, and you are made very aware of the autumn winds. Liu Kang helps you to your feet, and with linked arms, the pair of you make your way home.

The rest of the night he spends practically glued to your hip, touching you in any way he possibly can and true to his words, the next day is spent doing whatever you please.

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chiqelatasblog · 5 months

Text

When a Sorcerer Turns Into a Cat…

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Catsung art.

-> Another art for the last scene.

-> Lovely art by @inienil

Pairing : Shang Tsung x Reader

Tropes : Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Confessions, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Kind of Secret Identity?

Summary : When Shang Tsung crafted a potion for invisibility, he was unprepared for the peculiar result—he unexpectedly transformed into a cat. Struggling to navigate the world on four paws, he sought refuge, and that’s precisely when you entered the scene.

As the only person Shang Tsung trusted, he reached out to you, desperately in need of help. Oblivious to his true identity, you unwittingly revealed some truths about your feelings as you welcomed the unexpected guest into your home.

Author’s Note: I had so much fun when I was writing this. I always thought Shang Tsung behave like a sassy cat and seeing memes about it, this fic came to life. Hope you guys like it too, happy reading! .

He should never have made that potion.

About a day ago, he received the recipe for the invisibility potion from a small, dimly lit shop nestled in a mysterious corner of the city. The shop, selling peculiar items of unknown origin, offered him the recipe at an unbelievably low price, almost as if fate had handed him a golden ticket.

Despite a nagging suspicion that something wasn’t quite right, he was low on funds and had little else to trade Invisibility, a coveted skill he had long yearned to master, promised an escape from the ongoing misery of his life.

Eagerly, he returned to his humble trailer, carefully following the recipe’s instructions. The resulting potion, a dark purple concoction with a nauseating odor, made him gag even before it touched his lips. Disregarding the unpleasantness, he gulped it down in one go. Initially, only the repulsive taste assaulted his senses, but as seconds morphed into minutes, and his body stubbornly remained visible, frustration and realization set in – he had been duped.

Uttering a string of curses, he nervously set the bottle on the table, and then, suddenly, the world around him seemed to expand. No, he corrected himself; it was he who was shrinking. Panic seized him as his body crumbled at an alarming rate. Clothes, once fitting, now engulfed him like a collapsing tent. His limbs betrayed him, refusing to respond as he grappled with the unfolding chaos.

When he finally managed to disentangle himself from the heap of clothes, he was sent tumbling down the steps of his trailer, only to land unceremoniously in a puddle a short distance away.

Drenched from head to toe, he couldn’t hold back a frustrated ‘‘Fuck!’’ as he flung his wet hair away. However, amidst his exclamation, an unexpected sound reached his ears – a distinct ‘’Meow!’’

Shang Tsung’s world ground to a halt. ‘’Meow?’’ he echoed, utterly perplexed.

Gazing at his reflection in the puddle, he hoped desperately that it was all a dream. The creature staring back at him couldn’t be real. Two pairs of pointed ears, long black whiskers, a tiny triangular black nose, and again two large black eyes confronted him. He blinked, as if trying to verify his vision, and recoiled when his reflection blinked back in perfect synchronization.

The cat-like scream that followed, much higher-pitched than any human scream, nearly caused him to faint. He had transformed into a cat!

Fluffy paws had replaced his hands and feet, and whiskers, resembling delicate antennas, twitched involuntarily. The wet black fur failed to offer warmth, and a tail resembling a cleaning brush remained the only dry spot on his body.

Surveying his surroundings helplessly, Shang Tsung grappled with the overwhelming sensations. Colors, scents, and sounds bombarded his heightened senses. The moist and soft ground beneath his paws carried distinct smells – from the lush grass and flower pollen to the foul odor of nearby mice – making him nauseous and dizzy in this new feline reality.

He resolved to hide in his trailer until the effects of the potion had hopefully worn off. Perhaps time was the only remedy to this bizarre transformation.

With this decision, as he tried to maneuver his entirely alien limbs, he stumbled back into the puddle. Emitting a frustrated meow, he lifted his now even wetter body on trembling legs and took a determined step forward.

Coordinating his brain to move all four legs proved to be the most challenging task he had ever faced. Despite managing a few steps, it wasn’t long before he found himself face down on the ground. Climbing the stairs was out of the question when he could barely walk.

Yet, the thought of enduring the night defenseless in the open urged him to explore other options. Despite the presence of sharp claws at his disposal, he remained clueless about how to wield them effectively.

Suddenly, thunder rumbled ominously from the gathering dark clouds, intensifying his struggle. The loud noise sent shivers through his wet fur, and he fluffed up instinctively. What was he going to do now?

Abandoning the idea of entering his trailer due to his incapacitated state, and unable to climb the steps, he considered hiding beneath it. However, this provided little protection against larger predators.

As he weighed his limited options, another thunderclap sounded nearby, and rain approached faster than expected. Then, a solution flashed in his mind.

You.

In his present state of misery, pride might have prevented him from seeking you out, but the importance of trust is a precious rarity that outweighed his ego. The silver lining lay in the fact that, cloaked in this form, his identity would remain undetected by you.

He knew the way to your house by heart. If he could only manage to use his damn paws correctly, he estimated reaching your house in half an hour, perhaps even before the rain caught up with him.

With this determination, Shang wasted no time in taking action. His steps were still uneven and shaky, but time wasn’t a luxury he could afford to care about that.

The noise of the crowd from the market ahead throbbed in his ears, and an onslaught of diverse smells reached his nose, aggravating the nausea in his stomach. Being a cat was proving to be a challenging experience, perhaps explaining why they were often grumpy.

Navigating through the people, Shang tried his best not to entangle himself in anyone’s feet. However, his coordination mishaps led to a loss of balance, and a boy stepping on his tail resulted in a piercing yowl. Turning towards the offender, Shang unleashed a tirade of furious growls, attempting to express his outrage in the only way available.

‘’Are you blind, you damned brat! You almost trampled me!’’

Every word translated to meows, yet the intensity of his anger was universally understood. The woman, presumably the child’s mother, shielded her son from Shang and attempted to shoo him away with her hand, further bruising his wounded dignity.

Frustrated, Shang roared, ‘‘Who do you think you’re shooing, woman? Mother and son, I will kill you both and take your souls as a souvenir!’’—all conveyed in blood-curling meows.

Amidst the chaotic market, a male voice behind him suggested, ‘‘Ma’am, stand back; I think it has rabies.’’

Shang glared at the new person who had insulted him.

‘’Who do you think you’re calling rabid, you fucker—Oh, shit.’’

When he saw the bucket in the man’s hand that he was about to pour on him, he instantly put an end to his words-meows and hurried away from there as far as his legs would allow. He did not know how long he had been wandering around the market; the interior of the place he had always been wandering around had suddenly turned into a maze.

Everything was too loud, causing him to be constantly startled and feel the need to crawl into a corner with fear. The noise was overwhelming, and he had never felt so nervous; it was challenging not to be crushed underfoot when people, oblivious to his tiny presence, walked past him like giants. Additionally, the smells were more than mere scents—they were a symphony of overpowering fragrances that constantly distracted his attention.

After enduring a relentless pursuit by several dogs, their barks resonating through the narrow alleys, two people attempted to offer Shang affection. Amidst the chaos, he responded by scratching one person’s face, biting the other’s hand, and clumsily falling to the ground for the thirtieth time. Eventually, he managed to navigate the maze-like streets and arrive in front of your house.

Standing at the door of your one-story, quite small, stone house, he didn’t bother to stand up. Instead, he lay down on the ground for a prolonged moment.

Tired, hungry, and thirsty, he also felt the grime on his fur from the rain that continued to pour. It was already dark, and despite all his efforts, he hadn’t managed to escape the relentless downpour. While waiting in front of the door, drenched and shivering, he started screaming at the top of his lungs when he couldn’t hear a sound indicating that you were inside.

Just as people didn’t trust him easily, he himself never trusted others easily. In fact, he never trusted. You were the only one who had an exception in this matter. He had a bond with you that he didn’t share with anyone; it was so special and precious to him that Shang was afraid of doing something wrong and pushing you away.

You possessed a kind and empathetic nature, extending compassion even to someone like him who made money by deceiving people. This filled him with the need to protect, as well as a genuine concern for your selflessness.

While you were certainly not naive, your kind heart and tolerant attitude toward everyone could one day lead you to unexpected hurt. People often saw kindness as weakness, and Shang knew it well. Kindness was nothing more than a tool for many to gain the upper hand and exploit others.

Shang, despite his deceptive nature, taught you how to draw boundaries with small word games, preserving your gentle nature without resorting to brute force. Although he was aware that this approach contradicted his general nature, he found himself irresistibly drawn to you, seizing every opportunity to be near you.

He had no idea when he fell in love with you; perhaps it was the first time he saw you, or maybe it was when a few of the customers he tricked later came to kick his ass, and you helped him take care of his wounds after they hurt him badly. Or maybe it was that sexy look on your face when you didn’t refrain from answering back to him about something for the first time.

The options were endless, but one thing he knew was that he had never felt such intense attraction and closeness to anyone before. He was almost sure that you felt the same way, but he hesitated to take a step further, not wanting to risk this relationship he couldn’t name between you.

Finally, Shang stopped shouting when footsteps, making it clear that you had heard his screams, were heard from behind the door.

‘‘What’s going on?’’

When you opened the door and looked with curious eyes to see the source of the sound, Shang instantly tried to get your attention, mustering a heart-wrenching meow to pull at your heartstrings.

‘‘Oh, were you the cause of all this screaming?’’

By opening the door a little further, as if to show that there was no threat, you got down on your knees and stretched out your hand to him, inviting him closer.

“Hello, little one, come closer.’’

Shang came straight to you without a second thought, rubbing his head on your hands. He began to purr, a sound that seemed to emanate from the very core of his being. You put on a sweet smile at the sounds he made, Shang’s eyes closing with happiness as your gentle hands massaged behind his ears.

‘‘You poor thing, you’re soaked through.’’ After stroking his head a little more, you carefully grasped him on both sides with your hands. ‘’I’m going to hold you in my arms, please don’t attack me, okay?’’

Shang responded with louder purrs, trying to make himself appear as harmless and innocent as possible. You were the only person in this world he would not harm, a fact that could not change now or later. The warmth of your embrace provided solace to Shang, now a rain-soaked cat, as you lifted him into your arms. His damp fur clung to your clothes, but you didn’t seem to mind.

As you cradled him in your lap, Shang tried not to be too impressed by the softness of your breasts. But right now, even if he was a cat, he was a man, and being closer to the woman he loved than ever before might have affected him more than he thought.

‘‘That’s it, come here, my little friend. Let’s wash you first; you smell terrible. We’ll have dinner together later, what do you think? Is that okay?’’

While holding him with one hand and stroking him under the chin with the other hand, Shang’s eyes closed with happiness once again. He felt safe, comfortable, and peaceful. All that dizzying confusion of sounds, smells, and images had finally calmed down a little.

Your scent was playing a big role in him calming down. It was sweet, reminiscent of vanilla and a hint of lavender, a fragrance that wrapped around him like a comforting embrace.

When he caught your scent once more, just to be certain, his mouth watered. It was delicious, with an undercurrent of delightful notes—raisins and chocolate dough, the unmistakable aroma of his all-time favorite dessert: moon cakes, a treat you had lovingly prepared to smell just like this.

When his stomach rumbled loudly enough to embarrass him, you giggled.

“Oh my, I will put an end to your hunger at once, little one. Don’t worry; you’re in good hands.’’

When you arrived at the bathroom, after placing him in a basin and approaching to pour hot water on him, Shang’s whole body reflexively tensed up, and his coat puffed out.

If I get wet one more fucking time I-

‘‘I’ll keep this as quick as possible.’’ You said, in your usual kind voice, and put a little kiss on his head. The words that were waiting on the tip of Shang’s tongue to be said evaporated and disappeared into the air. Before he had a chance to shake off his astonishment, you began to wash his body with hot water.

Although he didn’t want to admit it, he liked the bath. The warm water cascading over him felt like a gentle rain, washing away the grime and tension from his fur. His body, stiff from the nightmare-filled moments he spent outside, had almost reached the consistency of falling asleep as it slowly relaxed between your fingers, which felt like magic.

‘‘Good boy, look how well behaved you are. You must be someone’s cat; you don’t look feral at all.’’ You said, mumbling to yourself. Your compliment had caused another unexpected reaction in Shang. While his heart began to beat faster than before, he had no doubt that his cheeks would have flushed noticeably if he had been human.

When you started delicately drying his body with a towel, Shang seized the opportunity to shake off the water, and in a playful display, a small scream escaped your lips as you attempted to shield yourself from the scattered water drops.

With your face and hair now adorned with droplets, Shang, taking full advantage of his feline guise, delicately licked the drops on your cheek. Unbeknownst to you, he reveled in this mischievous act.

Against his movement, you let out a giggle that made his heart jump. After drying his semi-damp body, you picked him up again and headed into the kitchen. Shang took a deep breath, inhaling the delicious smells wafting around, trying to ignore the rumbling of his stomach.

You had just made the moon cakes he had predicted, and with the smoke rising from them, it was obvious they had just come out of the stone oven. Shang couldn’t decide whether your lap or the buns lined up like treasure on the counter were more attractive.

‘‘Stop right here, and I’ll see what I can give you.’’

As you put him down and started preparing food by wandering around the kitchen, Shang looked at the counter with longing eyes. How he would have liked to jump in there and grab one of the cakes. Deciding to try his luck, he leaned his paws on the counter, attempting to keep his balance on both legs. Although he couldn’t see the counter, he could have reached out and grabbed one of the cakes with his paw. He just needed to reach a little more—

‘‘Oh, hold on there, you naughty kitty.’’

You grabbed him by the waist, pulled him away from the counter, and placed him on the table.

‘’There’s nothing there for you.”

“Don’t think so; you can’t protect those buns from me.”

Interpreting his mewing as a sign of hunger, you once again stroked the top of his head with understanding eyes.

“Here you go buddy, enjoy your meal.”

Leaving the food you had prepared for him in front of him, you sat down with your own dinner. Shang inspected the food, smelling the bowl. When he caught a whiff of chicken broth and stale bread crumbs, he looked up, giving you side eyes.

He couldn’t believe you were offering him stale bread.

“What?” As you carefully chewed a morsel, your eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Are you giving me the side eye?”

Shang pushed the food with one paw, turning his head to the side.

“What’s with that attitude?” you said with a laugh. “Aren’t you hungry? You should be able to smell the chicken inside.”

“And the stale bread you put in,” Shang hissed. Approaching you confidently, he eyed the food on your plate. With beautifully baked chicken pieces, sautéed vegetables, and rice, your plate looked quite delicious. Shang swallowed, feeling his mouth water. You didn’t stop him when he buried his head in your plate, about to devour one of the chickens.

“Alright, eat up. It’s obvious you need it more than me.”

As you gently stroked his head, Shang couldn’t determine if he was truly starving, attributing the chicken’s apparent deliciousness to his intense hunger. With purrs that exceeded his small body, he devoured the meal, finding it to be the most delicious chicken he had ever eaten.

When you prepared a new plate for yourself and sat down, a peaceful silence descended between the two of you. After a while, while taking a small sip from your wine glass, you continued to gently stroke the top of Shang’s head with one hand.

This, he thought to himself, must be heaven.

‘’You’re tame enough to make me think you’re somebody’s pet. If you haven’t run away from home and you’ve been dumped, I have two words to say to that person.’’ You said in a harsh voice.

As Shang licked the leftover pieces of chicken smeared on the side of his mouth, he started purring louder when he heard the protective timbre in your voice. Giggling at his reaction, you stroked his cheek with your dainty fingers.

‘’We need to give you a name, hmm.’’ After taking another sip of your wine, you patted your chin with one hand and looked at him with thoughtful eyes. Shang thought about how breathtaking you looked at that moment.

Most of the lights in your house were turned off, it was dim except for a few candles that you placed around and the heat and light emitted by a small fireplace burning a little further away.

The places where the soft yellow light touched your skin painted you a sweet golden color, while your cheeks were slightly pinkened because of the wine you were drinking, and your lips were tinged with a dark color of red. As the thin tufts of hair that had escaped from the bun that you had scattered from the top covered your face, he felt an intense desire to kiss you at that moment, it suddenly became even more important for him than breathing.

You looked so sweet, vulnerable, and beautiful that he cursed himself once again for turning into a cat. But on the other hand, if he hadn’t turned, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to see you like this.

“Actually, I know someone who loves cats, I have no doubt that he will adore you.” You said and put another smile on your face from behind the glass touched your lips. His heart warmed at the sight of you. “He tries not to show it, but I know how much he loves animals. It’s easier for him to make friends compared to people; I can’t blame him for thinking like that. Everyone has their reasons.’’

When your fingers moved again to stroke the soft fur, Shang brought his head closer to you. Meanwhile, he couldn’t help wondering, were you talking about him?

‘‘I can tell that his hair is the same color as your coat, and even your eyes are exactly the same color. Should I also call you Shang? Or Shang the Junior?‘’ You continued laughing at your own words, while Shang responded by looking at you with side eyes. His gaze must be amusing to you, making you burst into a louder laugh.

‘‘I’ve no doubt he’ll look just as sassy as you are looking at me right now! By the elder gods, that was good. But I think it would be more appropriate if I thought of another name… how about Night? It’s a name that suits you quite well.’’

After stroking his head for the last time, you collected the plates on the table in one hand and stood up with the wine glass you were about to finish. You put the plates in the tap, cut one of the moon cakes left on the counter across from you in half, and put it in your mouth.

“Better than I thought, Shang will love these.” You said it in a hushed voice, difficult to be heard. The expression on your face was much more peaceful and gentle now. Knowing that he was the reason behind it, filled Shang with pride. When he tried to attract attention to himself by meowing across the table, you approached him with half a moon cake.

“I know it’s usually harmful for you to eat this, but I guess a little bite once is fine, right? Here you go.” When you divided the one in your hand once more, reduced it even more, and handed it to him, Shang happily bit the piece you handed him into his mouth. The taste was absolutely exquisite—a feast of flavors that melted in his mouth before he even chewed.

‘‘You seem to like it too.’’

‘‘I love it!’’ Shang said, meowing loudly. When he held on to your arm with his front paws to ask for more, you had no choice but to give him the other piece as well. After Shang filled the last place left in his small stomach with cake, you took him on your lap and went into the living room.

You lay down on the peltries and furs that were laid out a little distance from the fireplace and pulled one of the cushions on the floor to have a pillow under your head. Shang instantly took advantage of the opportunity, curled up on your arm and rested his head on your neck.

The smell of you, the heat from the fireplace, and the crackling rising from the burning wood… all filled him with peace, as well as his relaxing body literally turned to jelly.

As the rain outside continued its symphony, Shang, now affectionately named Night, nestled comfortably in your gentle embrace. The soft illumination of candles played with the shadows, creating a tranquil ambiance that matched the warmth spreading within him.

Your musings about other potential names—Whiskers or Shadow—accompanied by the calming melody of the rain, painted an intimate scene. The soothing patter of raindrops on the window seemed to harmonize with the contented purrs emanating from Shang, reinforcing the newfound sense of belonging.

‘‘It’s a very different feeling to want to see someone all the time, not to want to leave their side,’’ You said some time later. Your tone was quiet and somehow fragile. While one hand stroked the soft, black fur, Shang stubbornly tried to resist sleeping, despite his tired body. He wanted to hear the words that would come out of your mouth.

‘‘I feel that I really know him, I accepted him into my heart a long time ago with all his wrongs and truths.’’

Even though there was technically no one else in the house but you, your voice was getting quiet, as if you were afraid someone would hear it. When the other hand covered your eyes, the smile that left your lips this time had nothing to do with the previous ones. It was bitter and insecure.

‘’I like him. Oh gods, I like him more than I thought.’’

A tear trickled down your cheek from the eyes you had hidden from him. Shang instantly rose up and licked the tear that was trickling down your cheek, as if to calm you down. How he would like to be a human being right now and reciprocate you. While his heart was pounding with happiness and excitement because of your confession, at the same time, your lack of self-confidence and the anxiety that you were feeding from the inside made him feel bad.

You finally kissed the top of his head, rewarding him for trying to comfort you as much as he could with a little chuckle.

‘’Thank you, Night. Your presence was unexpected, but thank you for choosing my door.’’ You said, in a voice as soft and sincere as honey. ‘‘I wish there was some way I could know what was going through Shang’s mind; it would be nice to know if he feels the same way towards me, wouldn’t it?’’

Shang just rubbed his head against yours, trying to give you a positive answer. He wanted this damn situation to end as soon as possible; he was about to go insane.

After a while, you declared, ‘’It’s been a long day,’ concluding the topic. The flickering flames in the fireplace cast a warm glow, highlighting the subtle lines of exhaustion on your face. Shifting towards the fireplace, you enveloped him in your arms, pulling Shang close as if he was a cherished plush toy. Shang nestled into the warmth, leaning against you with no space between.

He seemed content in this embrace, willing to endure it a while longer.

BONUS:

As birds chirped outside and sunlight gradually invaded the room, you slowly awoke. The wooden floor beneath you creaked as you shifted, a small moan escaping your lips along with the lingering ache in your hips.

Every inch of you seemed to protest the unconventional night’s rest. Yet, when a hand, still warm from sleep, squeezed your waist, all discomfort faded. Turning, a gasp caught in your throat.

There lay Shang Tsung, peacefully asleep, a sight you hadn’t anticipated. Surprised, you didn’t scream, perhaps even forgetting to breathe. Studying his features, you reached out, brushing your fingers through his tousled black hair. The once-cynical expression softened in slumber, and his pale pink lips were slightly parted, giving him a tranquil and almost boyish appearance, adorned with freckles on cheeks and nose.

Time seemed to halt, your heart reacting as it always did in his presence. To affirm it wasn’t a dream, your fingers grazed the soft strands of his hair, gently pulling them away from his face.

“This is real,” you uttered in a single breath. When Shang heard your voice, he parted his long, black eyelashes. His sleepy gaze found you directly, and a small smile settled on his face, leaving your heart in disarray.

“Of course, it’s real,” said Shang, his voice thicker than usual due to sleep. “It’s too early to wake up yet, so close your eyes. Let’s get some more sleep.”

Your brain was preoccupied with grasping the truth of how he got into your house and why he was sprawled over you with his arms wrapped around you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked with surprise.

“You let me in,” he replied simply.

“Me?” As you tried to figure out how, your eyebrows furrowed. The pieces snapped together in your mind as if lightning had flashed inside your head. “Was it you last night?!” you exclaimed, the half-scream in your voice. Shang’s eyes had already closed, but the wicked smile that revealed he hadn’t fallen asleep yet lingered on his face.

“How did you manage to turn into a cat?”

“Dear, it’s a pretty long story. Let me get some sleep first.”

As Shang snuggled closer, placing his chin on the top of your head, your eyes trailed down to his bare, muscular chest, and a shrill scream escaped your lips.

“You’re naked!”

“I guess so, I was a cat.”

“I can’t believe you’re sleeping next to me like this and still doing it,” you stammered, your face almost on fire.

“Well, I am quite comfortable,” Shang quipped without opening his eyes. He groped and took one of the pelts behind him, using it to cover himself.

“There, is that all right now?’’ A mischievous glint appeared in Shang’s eyes as he teased, “Well, if you’re done interrogating me, maybe I can finally enjoy some beauty sleep.”

You were so confused that you couldn’t answer him. Your poor brain, still struggling to comprehend what had just happened, was about to reach its breaking point. When you remembered the conversation you had with yourself last night, your face got so hot that you thought you were going to pass out and faint on the spot.

‘’When you were a cat… Do you remember what I said?”

Shang realized what you were talking about and chuckled in a deep voice.

“Everything.”

“Everything?” you said, squealing. Attempting to wriggle free from his grasp, you tried to hide from him, but Shang’s strong hands didn’t release their grip on your waist for a moment. On the contrary, a shaky breath escaped you when he pulled you closer, his hand gently stroking your hair.

“I like you too, (y/n),” Shang said, then kissed your forehead as if sealing his words. “I’ve been waiting for this moment so long,” he took a deep breath, burying his face into your hair. “While I’m holding you in my arms like this now, I don’t want to let go. Let’s stay like this a little longer.”

Since you couldn’t trust your voice, you contented yourself with nodding in approval. Although you couldn’t see Shang’s expression, there was no doubt he wasn’t smiling.

Your heart filled with warmth and happiness, sensations you’d never experienced before. You had a premonition that Shang had feelings for you, but you chose silence, fearing your confession might affect the bond between you.

This mutual confession made you feel light as a bird, filling you with pure happiness that made you wiggle like a little girl.

Before you could help yourself, now allowed to do something you’d wanted for a very long time, you straightened up on your elbows and planted a little kiss on one of Shang’s round cheeks.

Shang slightly opened his eyes, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing on earth. Then, as his hand found its place in the back of your neck, guiding you closer, you willingly followed. When your lips met, it was like two magnets drawn together, stealing every ounce of breath from your lungs

Shang’s kiss was as soft as the morning itself, an impetuosity showing that all the time belonged to them. While responding to his kiss, a detail caught your attention, and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Shang… You’re purring.”

Shang’s closed eyes widened.

“Fuck. There must be some side effects left from the damn potion.”

“I’ve always wanted to have a big cat,” you teased. Shang’s eyes narrowed playfully.

“I’m not like the cats you know, sweetie,” he said, brushing your hair with the back of his hand. Another smile left your lips, and you reached out to kiss him again.

“I have no doubt of it. Just don’t scratch the furniture, okay?”

Shang mockingly gasped, placing a hand over his chest.

“I’m offended. My claws are reserved for far more exciting endeavors, darling.”

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apocalypseafic · 8 months

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🌿MK1 Characters Try Weed for the First Time🍃

• Kung Lao: Munches the entire time (this one was obvious)

• Liu Kang: Tries to act like it isn’t affecting him until Kung Lao makes him giggle with his laugh then he can’t stop

• Szyoth: Cannot stop laughing watching tik toks with Asrah

• Kuai + Smoke: Being absolute goofballs coming up with the worst ideas like trying to make brownies and forgetting about them and burning them

• Johnny: puts on r&b music and is feeling himself. stares at kenshi.

• kenshi: also into the music. And johnny.

•johnny & kenshi end up excusing themselves and making out in a closet

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koisuko · 6 months

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Pov: You are a cat

how the mk1 characters react to you as a stray cat, one with an oddly familiar/fitting name

part 2, part 3, part 4, bonus

ft: Liu Kang, Shang Tsung, Raiden, Kung Lao

TW: none, fluffy cute stuff, gn, just a lil kitty, I love cats and thought why not

Liu Kang

Liu Kang's surprise was palpable as he entered his quarters and laid eyes on an unfamiliar feline that was playfully swatting at the stringy fabric of a cushion. A warm, gentle smile graced his features as he kneeled down to the cat's level, captivated by its playful antics.

"Hey there, little one. Are you lost?" he inquired with a soft, soothing tone. You, seemingly unperturbed by his presence, turned your attention to the glowing-eyed man before you. Your head tilted curiously, and a soft meow escaped from your mouth. Your ears flicked slightly as you observed Liu Kang in front of you, displaying an unexpected level of comfort around the fire god.

Liu Kang couldn't resist the urge to reach out and gently caress the cat's head. His hands, warm and comforting, ran through the soft, bicolored fur. The cat leaned into his pets, emitting a contented purr and rubbing against his leg. This heartwarming interaction brought a smile to Liu Kang's lips, and he decided to scoop the feline into his arms.

As he held the cat, his eyes caught a glint of metal reflecting in the ambient light, coming from a collar around the feline's neck. Liu Kang couldn't contain his curiosity and muttered to himself, "What's this?" With careful attention, he examined the collar, which bore a name engraved on it: 'Kitana.' His eyes widened slightly in recognition, and his smile grew even warmer. "A lovely name, Kitana," he said affectionately, holding the feline closer to his chest.

Shang Tsung

The unexpected presence of a random cat in his laboratory gave him quite the surprise. His curiosity was piqued, and he initially pondered what experiments he could conduct with this unexpected test subject. However, as he observed your lithe and efficient movements in keeping his lab free of rodents, his original intentions began to waver.

Approaching you slowly, he scooped you up under your arms and took a moment to examine you. A sly smirk formed on his face, revealing a dimple. You responded with a soft, unbothered meow as he regarded you. "Well, aren't you a surprise," he quipped.

“I suppose you could be of use,” he stated as he carried you over to his desk and gently placed you down. He ran his fingers through your sleek black fur, his demeanor softening. As you sat facing him, your tail curled comfortably around you. It was then that he noticed a small metal object dangling from the collar around your neck.

"Hmm, and what might this be?" he inquired smoothly, lifting the metal with his fingers to examine it closely. Engraved on the metal, he read the word 'Soul.' You trilled softly in response to his scrutiny, and he couldn't help but smile. "Soul, a fitting name, little rat killer," he said with a smirk as he continued to pet your head.

Raiden

Raiden, known for his affinity for animals, was delighted to see a small white cat bounding over to him, its tail held high in the shape of a question mark. While it wasn't uncommon to spot a cat here and there in the village, this one seemed to visit more frequently. He couldn't help but wonder if it had a home. Kneeling down as you approached, he greeted you with a warm smile, "Hello, little one." His hand moved to pat your head as you leaned into his touch, radiating happiness.

Your playful antics caught his attention as you fixated on a stray shoelace, crouching low and wiggling your body in preparation to pounce. The shoelace didn't stand a chance as you leaped at it, swatting it around with your paws and occasionally giving it a playful nip. Raiden couldn't help but chuckle at your enthusiasm, saying, "Well, aren't you a playful one."

Scooping you up gently, your upper half rested on his shoulder, and you playfully swatted at his hat. A soft jingling sound reached his ears, indicating a bell around your neck. Out of curiosity, he held you in front of him, noticing a small metal piece next to the bell. Upon closer inspection, he read the word 'Storm' engraved on the metal. "Storm, hm?" he mused, and you chirped in response while purring in his grasp. "A very fitting name, little storm," he commented with a smile, holding you close to his chest as you played with the collar of his shirt.

He decided that he wouldn't mind having some company on his tasks. Together, you walked through the village, forging a heartwarming bond.

Kung Lao

Kung Lao and his best friend Raiden were seated at a table in Madam Bo's tea house, savoring the delicious dishes spread before them. Kung Lao dug into his food with enthusiasm, while Raiden ate at a slower, more composed pace. Suddenly, he felt a peculiar sensation on his leg, originating from beneath the table. Pausing mid-bite, he scooted back in his seat and peered down to discover a small ginger tabby, rubbing affectionately against his leg, a soft purr resonating from its chest.

His confusion transformed into a warm smile, revealing his signature dimples. "Where'd you come from, little fella?" he wondered aloud. In response, you let out a rather loud meow and leaped into his lap. "Woah, hello there," Kung Lao chuckled, his hand moving to gently stroke your head. His gaze then shifted to the chicken leg in his hand. Breaking off a small piece, he extended it toward you, "Hungry?" Without hesitation, you snatched the treat from his hand, devouring it with the same enthusiasm he displayed for his own meals. After finishing, you gave your mouth a satisfied lick, and Kung Lao couldn't help but laugh. "Guess that answers my question," he remarked, continuing to pet your head.

You responded with more meows, trills, and chirps, “well aren’t you a talker.” Kung Lao's finger then caught on the collar around your neck, prompting his curiosity. Upon closer examination, he spotted a small name tag at the front, reading 'Shaolin.' His eyes widened in surprise. "Shaolin? What a coincidence, I'm a Shaolin Master myself," he proudly declared, feeling a strong connection with his new feline friend. Once again, you chirped in response and nuzzled into his chest for warmth. Kung Lao couldn't contain his affection and wrapped his arms around your small form. "Adorable, a little Shaolin," he said with a heartwarming smile, holding you close to his chest as he continued his meal.

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victorianeumanstrophywife · 7 months

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I'm actually begging on my knees ya'll please write some fanfiction about the woman of mortal kombat. I understand that the new design of the male mortal kombat characters is immaculate, but PLEASE give me a fanfic of the women specifically Li Mei. I'VE BEEN WAITING BEFORE THE GAME EVEN CAME OUT 😭😖✊🏾

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thisonehere · 6 months

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The Lin Kuei boys reacting to you falling asleep on their lap

Fluff Headcanons

Bi-Han

Bi-Han isn't the type of man who usually shows affection. He never really understood how to show it and you were no different. So when you find yourself slowly falling asleep on his lap, He has no idea what to do.

He notices how vulnerable you are in this situation and is very gentle as a result.

For who knows how long, he just sits there frozen out of fear of disturbing your slumber. You look so peaceful, so beautiful, he doesn't want to wake you and ruin this moment.

He wonders about you, is he too cold for you, he isn't as warm as Kuai so he worries that he cannot provide as much heat as he truly wanted to give you.

He wonders more about you personally. Why were you so comfortable with him. Do... do you actually like him? Love him even.

Bi Han shakes his head. To much to think about for this night.

Finally building up courage, he scoops your sleeping body up in bridal form and carries you to bed.

He gently lays you across the bed and slowly drapes the cover over you.

Before l he leaves, he hesitates before finally deciding to lay a kiss on your forehead.

It's quick yet sweet. He immediately rushes out of the room in slight embarrassment at what he just did. But before he leaves he turns to you to look at you one last time.

"Sleep well, Y/n." He softly says, almost smiling as he leaves.

Kuai Liang

Unlike Bi-Han, Kuai has never shown any signs of struggle when expressing affection. So you being so close to him shouldn't bother him so much, but it surprises him all the same.

He is taken by surprise but far from unprepared.

He smoothly adjusts his legs, making things much more comfortable for you and getting you in a much more relaxed state.

He gradually begins to raise his body heat to the point where you can be warm.

Now, Kuai begins to hum a strange yet soothing melody and you find yourself finally nodding off.

He smiles to himself when he hears your snoring, he can't but find you strangely adorable in this state.

He just sits there some time. He fears moving might ruin the moment.

For this very small moment, all Kuai can think about is you

All the troubles that ailed him vanished as he dawned upon your face.

He can't help but think of you and him...together. He feels stupid and almost embarrassed to think these things.

His thoughts are interrupted as he notices just how much time has past. You should be in bed, not with him.

Easily picking you up, he carries you to your bed.

He takes you to your bed and softly lays you down. He spreads the cover onto you

"Good night, Y/n, my beloved." He softly murmurs under his breath as he leaves.

Tomas Vrbada

Tomas isn't used to showing affection, not to you at least. He doesn't even remember how things led up to this point, all he knew was that you were on his lap and he was terrified.

"What am I supposed to do?" He thinks to himself as he looks at you on his lap.

He doesn't want to wake you so he refuses to move, not even a single muscle. He'd hate to disturb you, you seem so at peace in this moment.

For what seems like an eternity, Tomas just awkwardly sits there as you rest in his lap.

As time passes, Tomas starts to look at you for what feels like the first time. He never noticed how breathtaking you were until now.

He knew you were beautiful but feels like the first time he actually realizes it.

Thinking like this makes him feel very weird inside so he attempts to think about other things.

He finally musters enough courage to pick you up and carry you to your bed.

He wants to think that he is just as smooth as Bi Han or Kuai would be, but he knows isn't. He's a little clumsy actually.

Finally, find a proper position to put yourself in to ensure comfort, Tomas slowly leaves the room.

But not before stealing one more glance at you.

"Sweet dreams, Y/n, I love you." He sighs to himself as he leaves.

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ukit4m4 · 2 months

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★┆LIN KUEI BROTHERS FAVOURITE SPOT(S) TO KISS N BITES

warning : none, i think..? only bi han 's part have a tiny bit of smut

writer's note : HI LOL I'M SORRY I HAVEN'T POSTED IN A VERY LONG TIME 😓 I THINK THIS HAVE BEEN IN MY DRAFT FOR LIKEE IDK TWO MONTHS???? I SWEAR I'LL POST THE DARK!JOHNNY FIC SOON.. (or not idk writingblock is consuming me)

Bi-Han :

- he's probably a boobs typa guys. he'd prefer laying down with you, and rests himself under your chin, nuzzling onto your chest. Believe me, at the most random times of the day, he'll walk up to you and randomly squeeze your chest. (If you're comfortable enough with that, of course.) When having sex, he'll lean down and will definitely nuzzles onto your chest, whispering,

“You're mine, aren't you? Say it," He'd groans. "Say that you're mine." :3

Kuai Liang :

- when you guys are cuddling, his favorite position are the spooning thingy. His the big spoon, you're the small spoon. Sometimes, you guys will just cuddle in a comfortable silence and it makes him happy that you can spend time with him without words. If it is winter, he'll probably heat up his body ever so slightly so that you won't feel cold. He'll put his chin on your shoulder, then plant kisses on your cheeks until you giggle :3

Tomas Vrbada :

- Opposite of Bi Han, he loves putting YOU on HIS chest instead. Yep, you heard it right! Either when you guys are in the bedroom, or in the living room while watching TV, he'll lean to a stacked pillows, and put you on his chest, no matter if your body is big or not. Basically, your head is under his chin, so he'll plant kisses, stroke your hair, back, arms, etc. No matter what position you guys cuddle in, he just happy enough to spend time with you :3

likes, reblogs and shares are very very much appreciated !!!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#ukitama writes #bi han mk1 #tomas vrbada mk1 #kuai liang mk1 #mk fanfic #mk short fic #writing #mk writing #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #bihan mortal kombat 1 #free palestine #bi han x reader #tomas x reader #kuai liang x reader #fluff writing #cuddling #mk x reader

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lilacsandpetals · 6 months

Text

Frozen Blossoms Pt. 6

Last part here.

Next part here.

Bi-Han x F! Reader

Tags and notes: Arranged marriage AU, SFW (but some suggestive themes), exploring emotions, Pre-MK1/MK1 AU

Trigger Warnings: Kidnapping, blood, and mentions of violence.

Bi-Han had gotten far too used to you now.

Since that night when you washed his hair, the taste of your lips lingered on his. It’s as if you’d cast some spell on him. He sought you in quiet moments of the day when no one else was around but you and him. Exchanging discrete touches, stealing kisses, and nothing more.

He inched closer to you every night as you retired to bed. You opted to wake up earlier. A chaste kiss was shared before he departed in the morning, followed by a fervent one before bed each night.

Every day that went by brought you closer to him.

Yet it still left much to be desired. The longing for more of you was present, but it seemed all too difficult to proceed as he hoped. Something seemed to always pull you two apart. Whether it was you pulling away from a kiss far too soon for his liking or him being dragged away to serve Earthrealm. Or maybe on occasion, it was his own apprehension.

He did appreciate the kiss of goodbye you would gift him before he’d depart. Which these days, was more often than he preferred. But he tells himself that it’s not only for Earthrealm’s safety but yours as well.

And maintaining your safety was of the utmost importance to him. He’d strictly insist that you remain within the Lin Kuei’s walls, and when he did, he could see the disappointment in your eyes. Yet it was for your own good. He was sure that you were aware of the fact that your position was highly coveted. So slowly but surely, whispers and retaliation of your marriage clawed their way to the Lin Kuei. But he would not allow anyone from the surrounding clans to advocate or force your removal.

Still, they were becoming more of a nuisance than he had initially anticipated.

Many clans had approached the Grandmaster with offerings of their daughters for marriage; greedy and willing to sacrifice their kin as a bargaining chip in exchange for the Lin Kuei’s protection and loyalty. Although, what right did he have to think that way? His own father had so quickly arranged his marriage for the sake of greater resources for the clan’s advancement and well-being. He knew it was tradition, and he was nothing if not a product of his clan’s laws and heritage. But still, he wondered if his mother would have made him abide by such a standard.

Either way, when you had married there were already unhappy whispers dancing throughout the other clans. With tensions brewing he urged your instructors to intensify your training as time went on, just in case things went south. Other than the blatant conflicts they’ve had to shut down, he had instances where they’ve caught suspicious characters lurking nearby the Lin Kuei’s estate.

He wouldn’t worry you about all that. He’d manage that burden on his own.

Usually, he’d be eager to use the skills he has been taught. His bloodlust is greater than he’s let anyone take note of. But when it came to you, these conflicts concerned him. He found no pleasure in engaging in disputes that may put you at risk. It causes his heart to become anxious like he needs to wipe out any threat to you the second it arises.

That’s why he is always leaving you. Your time spent together has been cut short so often because he needs to take care of you in this way.

———————-

For now, he sits at the bedside, his body is tired, but he is eager to spend time in your company.

He glances at your flowers and gently plucks a petal off of one of them, he’d need to pick you new ones soon. These were clearly dead, yet he found it slightly endearing that you kept it around. One night he had seen you pluck some of the flowers off of their buds and place them into one of your books. He never cared for flower pressing, but he did find it somewhat gratifying that you’d preserve his gift in such a way.

His eyes then fall to the books. You had a decent stack of them resting at your bedside. You came off as an avid reader. When he’d return home from his work, he would find you engrossed with your novel more often than not. He wonders what type of books you like. He supposes that you wouldn’t mind him flipping through them.

Oh, how he wishes he hadn’t. You had a type of literature you were fond of and he’s not surprised. Most of the women he knew of had a preference for romance. However, he did not expect your novels to delve into such explicit situations.

What type of filth were you reading??

You often maintained such a monotone look while you read, so he never would assume you could be reading things of that nature.

He toyed at the collar around his neck. Were those actions what you desired of a man? Did you think of anyone while you read those novels? Have you already indulged in such actions with another? Or did you want to try them at all? He was right beside you when you read in the evenings. In his opinion, you had ample opportunity to initiate anything if you so desired. However, you two never went farther than a kiss. And it has been some time now since your first one. A slight feeling of unease settled within his chest. He could be the one to advance your relationship if he really wanted to.

What was holding him back?

The distinct sound of your footsteps approaching snap him out of his thoughts, so he clears his throat and sets the books back in place as if they were yet to be touched.

You rounded the corner with a smile on your face, as beautiful as always. “Husband, will you walk with me to the dining hall?”

He narrows his eyes slightly, “yes.” He gets up and steals one more glance at the books before he walks with you there. He maintains his regular demeanor. As you keep up the pace by his side, your hand slowly slips into his. He allows it and gently tightens his grip on your hand. You keep your eyes trained on the path ahead, but he can’t help stealing glances at you. Your hair was neatly tied back. A few strands always managed to escape but it felt fitting for you. The necklace he’d gotten you has taken up permanent residence on your neck, he knows you are wearing it before he even looks. The pin in your hair is simple, but he wonders if you’d want one to match your necklace. He’s sure he’d be able to find one with a jewel similar in color to that of your necklace.

———————-

Dinner went as per usual. These days your father-in-law would direct his conversation to his sons, leaving you a silent listener at the table. They spoke about their missions and their current affairs. As the matriarch-to-be, you should have been attentive to the conversation. But you often found yourself zoning out. You weren’t included in conversations of this nature that often outside the dinner table, so it made it difficult to engage properly.

But today was different. A calculated list of questions descended upon you. Inquiries on if you’ve been sleeping well and how many hours per night, how consistent you are with training, and if you’ve been eating properly.

You were confused for a moment, you appreciated the Grandmaster’s concern, but it felt nearly invasive. Still, you don’t think much of it until he speaks up once again.

“If all is well, I assume an heir will be conceived soon.”

You nearly choke on your food and begin to cough a bit. Tomas pushes your cup of water towards you. ‘So that was what all the questioning was about.’ You were not ready to have a child, not yet. And you were yet to even sleep with your husband. You seem frozen in place, not knowing how to respond. Thankfully your husband comes to your aid.

“We will inform you when the time comes, father.”

Bi-Han eyes you briefly and you look back down at your plate. That would be a different topic for you two to breach at a different time.

———————-

You’re off to bathe before bed. The warm water is soothing in the midst of the cold weather. Bi-Han is tempted to ask if he could join you. Yet he cannot find the words to do so. Matters of the heart have bested him far more than those of the battlefield. So he finds himself in his secondary place of pain and comfort of the training grounds. More training was beneficial. Unfortunately, he hadn’t anticipated Tomas or Kuai Liang to be present. They seemed more engaged in their conversation than the light sparring they partook in. What exactly were they talking about?

“Did you see his face?”

‘Who’s face?’ Bi-Han debates on whether or not he should ask, but before he is given the pleasure of deciding, Tomas spots him. “Bi-Han! Come practice with us.”

Bi-Han rolls his eyes, but he supposes the sparring partners would prove helpful. “What were you two talking about?” Tomas shoots Kuai Liang a certain look that Bi-Han takes notice of. “Well? Spit it out.” He snaps.

“It’s really nothing,” Tomas says sheepishly.

“We were just speaking on our future endeavors.” Kuai Liang remarks. He debates on whether or not he should cover up the subject of conversation, or if he should test his brother’s temper and be honest.

“As in?”

Kuai Liang throws some hand wraps to Bi-Han, which he snatches with ease. “Marriage and its aspects of love and responsibility.” Bi-Han nearly rolls his eyes. Both brothers assume a fighting stance. As per usual Bi-Han starts on the offensive, so he throws the first kick of the match, “Elaborate.”

“The same subject that father spoke about at dinner.” Kuai Liang responds with a punch that Bi-Han checks. He then shoves his brother slightly rougher than he meant to. ‘The subject spoken about at dinner?’ The sparring comes to an abrupt halt. “My wife?” he hisses.

Tomas promptly speaks up, “No! Just about the idea of having nieces and nephews soon.”

Bi-Han inhales sharply, and Tomas takes note, “I mean unless you haven’t been trying for a child yet?”

Kuai Liang shoots him a slightly amused look, and Bi-Han knows that face. It’s the same face that his younger brother would give him before he was about to spew utter nonsense. “You haven’t yet, have you?”

“Shut your mouths, you insolent fools.”

Tomas tries not to chuckle, “The more you avoid the question, the easier you make the assumption for us.”

“Neither of you is married, so do not act as if you could even comprehend such things.”

Kuai Liang respects his older brother, he really does, but right now he has to resist rolling his eyes.”Harumi and I are not married yet, but I think I’m capable of understanding such a topic.”

“You and Harumi have known each other since you were children, I met my bride rather recently. It is not the same ordeal, so don’t speak on it.”

Kuai Liang supposes his brother is correct. “You’re right in that I wouldn’t understand your exact situation. But you misinterpret my intentions.” He placed his hand on his older brother’s shoulder, “Don’t overthink it. Whenever it does happen, you’ll be fine. And I’m sure you’ll have offspring soon enough.”

Bi-Han will not voice it, but he hopes his brother is right.

———————-

Steam fills the room. You sink into the hot water and let out a pleasant sigh. Lately, you’ve had to increase the amount of time you spend training, and it is safe to say that your muscles still haven’t properly adjusted to the increased burden of it. Therefore, unwinding like this was greatly valued.

Whenever you were in this tub, you were reminded of your first kiss with your husband. The memory is still fresh in your mind and it causes heat to rush to your cheeks. He had looked stunning that evening with his hair down and his demeanor relaxed. Since then you were thankful that you had gotten close enough to exchange more kisses in private. Although neither of you breached the aspect of furthering your physical relationship. Yet you did find yourself desiring it more and more often these days. Thinking of his physique had caused your mind to wander further than you would have felt comfortable admitting.

And then it made you think of dinner earlier.

The process of producing a child did intrigue you, but the rest seemed nerve-wracking. Pregnancy was something you knew you’d have to endure sooner or later. It excited you but scared you all the same. And then the thought of raising a child in this strict environment worried you.

But those were problems that you would address later. For now, you’d relax, and ponder the possibilities of what may have happened if you hadn’t retired to bed so quickly after your first kiss that night.

———————-

Bi-Han eventually returned to your shared quarters. You were adorned in a silk robe, relaxing in the bed, book in hand. Your eyebrows were furrowed as your eyes rapidly scanned the words on the pages. You bit your lip briefly before a small smile emerged on your face. He wonders what about the novel could have you so engrossed; was it on the same topic he had seen earlier today?

He clears his throat and you look up, then briefly down at your book again before you shut it. Your eyes lift to meet his, “welcome back”

He cracks a small smile as he walks over to his side of the bed. “You say that as if I’ve been gone for a long time.”

“It felt long to me,” you tease and lean closer to him. Your book is still enclosed in your hand and Bi-Han can’t help but glance at the novel. “What were you reading?”

“Oh, this?” You hold up the book a bit higher and he gives you a little nod. “It’s a romance.”

You then stand up and motion to the stack at your bedside. “The majority are romance novels. I’ve read through a lot of them.”

You set the book in your hand down gently. “Speaking of which, I want to go get more.”

He raises an eyebrow, “More books? Why?”

‘What does he mean, why?’ You think and cross your arms rather confused, “why not?”

“Do you need them?”

“I find them enjoyable, isn’t that reason enough?”

“Can’t you find enjoyment in other things?”

You scoff and lay a hand on your hip. “I know you’re often preoccupied but the home we live in is catered to the strict nature of your clan. There are not many means of enjoyment here. My days are busy and I like to read to unwind.”

“There’s other ways to unwind.” He responds, almost in a tone that merges desire with that hesitant spite, and it only confuses you more. You step closer, “If you don’t accompany me I will go on my own.”

“You will not.”

Now you are getting annoyed. “And who’s going to stop me?”

Bi-Han clenches his jaw and steps forward, he holds your hand, “I will. You are not allowed to leave on your own.” It wasn’t safe, you’d become an object of envy for other clans. He was not going to let you out on your own.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, you went out on your own accord when you had lived with your family prior to the marriage. You went out during the Mid Autumn Festival. So what was the problem now? To be frank, it was getting a bit tiring. Living out a similar schedule every day, seeing the same locations on the daily.

Before your husband can say anything else you come up with another retort, “Okay, if I’m not allowed to go alone I’m sure Kuai Liang or Tomas will come with me.”

“No, not happening.” He snaps. Were you purposely trying to get on his nerves? The unamused look on your face clearly told him you would not be backing down. “If you desire to go that badly. Then I’ll take you.”

———————-

Bi-Han kept his word the next day.

It was nice to get back into the village, a much-needed change of pace from the confining walls of the Lin Kuei.

You had dragged your husband along to various shops—mostly window shopping. But you eventually made it to the shop that sold the novels you had a preference for. The shop itself was quaint, and the books were located in the back corner. You make your way there and skim the shelves, with your husband following close behind, His shadow looms over you as he tries to steal glances of the books you pluck off the shelf. You can feel how close he is so you turn around, handing him the book you have in hand. “You seem slightly interested.”

He takes the book and glances at the cover, “I assume it’s a romance.”

“Of course, it’s a genre I like. Oh and don’t put that back, I want to buy it.”

Bi-Han flips through the pages. It appeared to follow the course of the other books you had at home.

Maybe he’d sneak a look at the book when you were preoccupied again. If you found the actions done in the novel so enticing, maybe he could use that knowledge to his advantage. Or rather, the overall advantage of your marriage.

He continues to follow you around the shop and ends up buying the books you picked out. As you exit the shop and make your way onto the street you see Bi-Han staring at a small establishment. It was a tad far and on the other side of the road.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Just stay here. I’ll be right back.”

You oblige and as you squint your eyes, you notice it’s a jewelry shop of some kind. You try not to ponder, but you wonder if he was buying something for you.

So you wait on the side of the street, pacing back and forth a bit while you wait.

But something is wrong, bit by bit, the smell of smoke starts to become apparent. At first, you consider it nothing. Perhaps a nearby eatery had burned their food or something of that nature.

Then your stomach drops as you turn. Without warning, black smoke erupts into the air, and hot flames lick at your surroundings. Screams and shrieks of civilians ring in your ear as you attempt to make sense of what is happening.

You need to get out of here. Where is Bi-Han?

Your eyes quickly scan from side to side. The heat of the flames are becoming more and more apparent as your skin starts to sweat. It’s getting harder to breathe. Your sense of direction is skewed.

You need to find your husband.

But you can’t.

It all happens too fast. You don’t know when the unfamiliar hands grabbed you, and you don’t register how quickly the cloth covers your mouth and nose. You only realize you’re beginning to lose consciousness when it’s too late.

———————-

Your eyes can barely open. There’s a heinous pounding in your head accompanied by stinging pain around your ankles and wrists. You realize you’ve been bound there by a rope that scrapes against your skin every time you move, leaving it red and on the brink of breaking.

You’re unable to speak due to a cloth covering your mouth. You try to remain calm, but that’s easier said than done. Tears stream down your face and you attempt to regulate your breathing. You remind yourself that the more you panic, the harder this will be.

How long have you been here? The last thing you’re able to remember is being ambushed by men you didn’t know. With a thick cloth serving as a blindfold and being in what you assumed was a darker environment, there were limited ways to estimate the passage of time.

It suddenly hits you. The fire must have been a diversion.

You knew something was wrong. Between Bi-Han being more protective, the rise in clan conflicts, and the sudden increase in training, you should have deducted that something was off.

This would not have happened if you paid attention more or if you trained more. Maybe you would’ve been able to defend yourself and make it to Bi-Han in time. You knew risks came with your new status, why didn’t you take that into account more?

You never thought it would affect you so directly, that you’d become a hostage. And worse yet, you didn’t know what these men intended to do. What if they meant to kill you? You would never get to say goodbye to your family back home. You would not get to say goodbye to Bi-Han. You wished you spent more time with him. You can feel yourself shaking, but attempt to take a few deep breaths.

You try to snap out of it. You have to be calm. Worrying would do you no good now.

Your husband wouldn’t leave you like this, would he? He was a capable man. You know he wouldn’t just forget about you.

You will be fine. All you have to do is remain steadfast in your trust towards your husband.

And so as time slowly passes, your breathing returns to a normal rate, and the tears do not stop, but they slow down. You lay your head against the concrete wall. Your mind runs over the same thought again and again. That BI-Han would rescue you, you just needed to be patient.

You don’t know how long it has been, but you’ve remained practically still.

The sound of a heavy door creaking open gets your attention.

“She’s here!”

Your heart pounds as you hear two familiar voices within ear’s reach. ‘Kuai Liang and Tomas.’

“Is she hurt?”

“I think so.”

Both of them come to your aid, first removing your blindfold. Your eyes try to adjust to your surroundings and the visual confirmation that your new family is present eases the tension a bit. Tears of relief leave you as they remove the cloth from your mouth. “Thank you.” You mumble. Drool pools at the side of your lips when you speak. Between that and the tears you briefly think of how much of a mess you might look like now. But the thought leaves as fast as it comes. Kuai Liang undoes the binding on your ankles, while Tomas tends to your wrists. It hurts, and you notice your left wrist has begun to bleed. Your lip begins to quiver and Tomas hastily wraps a cloth around it. “Don’t worry, the rope didn’t cut that deep, this cloth should do until we get back home.”

“And don’t worry Y/N, you’ll be home soon,” Kuai Liang remarks in as comforting a tone that he can muster up right now. But you catch the concerned looks that the brothers exchange.

You try to crack a smile, to show your appreciation at their attempts to make you feel better. But it’s difficult right now.

Where was your husband?

As if on cue, Bi-Han practically breaks down the door as he enters the room. “They��re all dead but one, I left him alive to question.” His tone of voice is harsh, practically lethal.

You’ve never seen him like this.

Blood paints his face and clothing. He is breathing heavily and you can vaguely hear it through his mask. His eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes have never appeared so cold. There’s a blood-soaked dagger in his hand. You can see it’s made of ice and he tosses it to the side before running towards you. His mask covers the lower half of his face, but his eyes have always been expressive, and you can see the hardened look in his eyes slightly soften. He bends down to your level, taking your ankle in his hand gently before you feel his arms wrap around you. He lifts you bridal-style.

Exhaustion has overtaken you. The blood on his clothing concerns you, but it doesn't seem like it belongs to Bi-Han. Some of the blood gets on your cheek when you lay your head against his chest. You can faintly hear his heart beating frantically although he doesn’t show it. He carefully wipes a lone tear that cascades down your cheek.

You want to thank him for saving you, you want to apologize for allowing yourself to be kidnapped. You want to scream and cry, and you want him to wipe away all the tears that threaten to spill over. But it feels as if no matter how many times your mouth opens, no words come out. That no matter how badly you want to move, your body is frozen in place. He carries you out and you close your eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you.

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Thanks for reading 💙

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Some of the tags aren't working

#mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #bi han x reader #bi han mk #bi han sub zero #bi han x you #bi han fanfic #I hope I caught all the typos

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