#what if swap mk

[angstandhappiness]

INTERESTING

Familiar, but different at the same time.

[mrstsung]

Anyone who thinks kuai liang as the mantle of scorpion is or was remotely a good idea is a bit racist or at very least very ignorant to me. Sorry not sorry.

Kuai liang is chinese and always a cryomancer. Bi-han is also Chinese and a cryomancer. Both are brothers. And from the lin kuei. A CHINESE,ASSASSIN GROUP. And sub zero is their mantles. Tundra was kuais beforw he took his bros mantle after his death.

Hanzo hasashi is scorpion,he gave himself that moniker. Scorpion is shirai-ryu,is Japanese. A Japanese ninja,assassin. He used fire. Always has.

Just because two characters are far east asian doesn't make it right to exchange them because THEY ARE STILL TWO DIFFERENT CULTURES! They both have different characteristics and both characters are not to be irechangeable like a palate swap. This isn't the 90s anymore. They actually have a fucking history,personality,and different fucking problems.

Kuai is Chinese. Scorpion is a moniker for a JAPANESE ASSASSIN CLAN.

Not the fucking same.

Besides. This isn't actually groundbreaking as people wanna fucking claim. Oooo you switched the characters. Big whoop. They all get screwed over in the end. You dont really change anything. And it doesn't make sense.

Not to mention you legitimately give kuai hnazos backstory. That makes no sense. And you give him a "happy?" Ending?! Oh but hanzo has to suffer because status quo?! Fuck off boon go eat trash and die for that!

I will never forget boon for fucking ove rthe ninjas. A mk staple,the bread n butter.

Not to mention if y'all just don't actually get it. Then you never will. Don't play mortal kombat if you can't understand how fucked up them screwing over kuai liang and hanzo is.

No this isn't a ship post. I dont ship them. (Im more of a sub smoke enjoyer anyways. For many reasons) This is just over their characters in general.

Kuai liang and hanzo. The true and only sub zero(KUAI) and scorpion (HANZO) didn't go through so much character development and history for you to treat their characters as a prop. What's the point in a story or lore then? If you're gonna disregard it just so damn easily?

Anyways

Kuai is fucking subzero

Bihan is subzero og and noob saibot.

Hanzo hasashi is fucking scorpion.

DEAL WITH IT! CRY N SHIT ABOUT IT. THAT'S HOW IT IS. DONT LIKE IT? DONT PLAY MORTAL KOMBAT!

Vent over. Fuck the "new" era game,mk12/mk1(2023). It can go to hell.

[quinn-pop]

mtdd week day 4 - swap

gift swap!!

species swap!!

mask “swap” (yeah this is theft whoops)

complicated familial relationship swap??

3ds game antagonist swap??????

[cienie-isengardu]

Just a bit about MK's gender swap of Sektor and Cyrax

Unless there is a solid reason behind such a choice, I’m not a big fan of turning established characters into a different gender. Since Cyrax and Sektor’s gender has never played any vital part in their relationship with Bi-Han, Tomas or Kuai Liang, I can accept the gender swap for now, although my final judgment will depend on how those characters will be used in the upcoming expanded story.

That said, I have some legitimate concerns about those changes. For one, if this is NRS’s way to introduce more female fighters, then I’m pretty offended. I’m still awaiting the return of Sonya (one of the original cast!). There is also Sheeva, D’Vorah, Jade, Frost, Skarlet, Khameleon (already mentioned in intro dialogues as Umgadi), Sareena (as actual character not supporting background cameo), Jataaka, Kia. There is Harumi that definitely deserves to be flashed out beyond Scorpion’s fiance/wife, not to mention a chance to introduce us to a totally new female protagonist, like Raiden’s sister. Or NRS could bring comics!Hydro as a woman (or gender-fluid hydromancer. I’m not picky, though I doubt the NRS has any intention to explore gender issues beyond characters being women or men).

And let’s not forget about Cassie Cage & Jacqui Briggs, but those two as New Generation may not fit yet into the story, which is understandable. 

I’m happy to see Sektor and Cyrax back, but there are plenty of female characters that deserve no less to be brought back into lore and I’m afraid that gender swapping Cyrax and Sektor is NRS’s way to kill two birds with one stone. Bi-Han’s supporters are important to expand the Lin Kuei vs Shirai Ryu conflict, but by being now women, their presence on the roster reduces the chance of other female characters.  

The second, more prominent concern I have is the fear that the game will rely on or imply there was romance - still ongoing or in the past - between Bi-Han or Kuai Liang with either Sektor or Cyrax. I said it countless times before that I see Sub-Zero as aromantic & asexual so any romance for him simply doesn’t work for me, but that is actually beside the point.

My point is, if the major addition to the relationship between Lin Kuei characters will be Sektor and/or Cyrax having romantic feelings for any of the brothers and for that addition NRS needed to gender swap them into women I WILL BE FURIOUS. Not for the romance itself, but because Sektor and Cyrax as men could have the same feelings and their gender should not play any role in that. Homosexual and/or bisexual men should be part of MK lore no less than heterosexual characters. And I feel lately that the Mortal Kombat franchise likes to erase a lot of previously established diversity. Homosexual Kung Jin was playable only in MKX (2015) and just referred here or there since then. Previous timelines Mileena showed interest (or sometimes was just sexually creepy?) toward men and women alike, now she is only interested in Tanya. On one hand, cool, an established lesbian woman. On another the bisexual vibe is kicked out of the window - or at least this is my impression. Johnny may be seen as bisexual man, but how intentional that was on the NRS’ part or just came out naturally as there is no female character in the group of Liu Kang’s Earthrealm Champions for him to interact with, I’m not sure. 

My fear is that NRS is just a coward that would rather gender-swap male characters to present them and their relationship as heterosexual than just go with them as they are. MK1 has already the token homosexual pair (Tanya & Mileena) to balance Liu Kang/Kitana,  Sindel/Jerrod and background Johnny’s ex-marriage or Kenshi/Suchin. So if female Cyrax and Sektor’s purpose is to either avoid homosexual implication or to explore the relationship of  Lin Kuei characters through some romantic bullshit, I will be furious. But if studio’s choice to gender swap Sektor and Cyrax will change literally nothing about what we already knew from previous timelines then WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ALL OF THIS?

Like I said, my final judgment about NRS’s choice for female Cyrax and Sektor will be based on story mode alone. For now, I’m pretty much indifferent, as their gender has never affected their relationship with Bi-Han before and so far the only complaint I have is, the visually-wise impression that female Cyrax and Sektor seem to look thinner than rest of female characters? But that may be just the armor playing a trick on my eyes.

(I lied. I have a second complaint, their armor should be more bulky, and better covering their body/gender. This seems like a wasted opportunity to have a cool reveal that yes, under the armor there are two kick-ass awesome women).

So, female Cyrax and Sektor for now does not change anything for me, but I do remain suspicious about the reasoning of NRS for gender swap.

[valdrinors-writing]

OC HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE 2024 - DAY SIX - ROLESWAP AU

Luna Derbyshire as The Emissary of the Gods Amber Talbot as the Constant Companion

[time-bone-swap-au]

This AU is kinda depressing smh-

In both Accepted Fate and Destiny’s Lament MBK’s fate is literally to die.

In Accepted Fate, he either takes the blame for all the timeline changes instead of Bai He then gets executed or she literally becomes a Pillar of Creation. (This is probably why the Jade Emperor hasn’t actively searched for the anomaly in the timeline in a while)

In Destiny’s Lament he basically dies the same way as LBD, repeating the very fabric of destiny they wanted to break free from.

The only timeline without a concrete ending is Third Time’s a Charm, where MBK successfully rewrites the timeline into the OG timeline, that one doesn’t have a concrete ending because basically MK rewrites the world over and over again until it is right.

[ceoofmetagala]

SOKE IF YAKL DONT KNOW WHAT A ROLESWAP IS AND JUTS AWAP FHE DEVSIN AND CALL IT A DAY. ITS CALLED DESGIN SWAP NOT ROLE SWAP YOY FOOLS. 🤣🤣

[enka-antix]

Sooo I had a AU idea, I'm calling it "eclipsed king AU" and it's kind of a cannon divergence swap au of sorts. Basically something goes different in macaque and wukongs fight during jttw and MK gets trained by a macaque that never died :]

What happened to wukong? Well he sure didn't die, he's too immortal for that. Tho Mk and Macaque surr consider him dead and more than that I won't mention.. yet.

[lucagray813]

This was significantly more difficult than swapping Macaque and Wukong's clothes but apart from being dumb and using a lower quality image I think I'm happy with it overall - it was a fun challenge!

I struggled with what to do with MK's hair until I came across this really cute post by py-dreamer. I know I could have just left him with his bandana but apparently I hate to make things easy for myself.

Other clothes swaps:

-Macaque w/ Peng's outfit

[luxthestrange]

LMK Incorrect quotes#77 Swapping babies

Celestial!Y/n*Looking back at Redspm from the review mirror*Me & And Your Big Brother thought it be a good idea to spend time with each other's kids, So what you wanna do? You wanna see a movie?

Infant!Redson*Adjusting in his baby seat*Yeah maybe...

Celestial!Y/n: We could see space jam?~

Infant!Redson: That is childs movie!!!*Frown at that title*-What about Fast & Furious!*Looks excited at idea*YE!

Celestial!Y/n: THAT MOVIE IS RATED PG13-YOUR LIKE FOUR!

Infant!Redson: But in human years we are WAY older than that,so basically a pass

Celestial!Y/n: Yeah-NO, Nice try*Looks unimpressed at the the demon child*

Infant!Redson: FINE, We will just tell big brohter...how your dont care about...Our Family*Looks at them with a side glance,Puts Dom Toretto Theme song*...

Celestial!Y/n:...FINE!I wonder how Nezha holding up...

In the Celestial Realm

Infant!Mk*Crawling on the floor to spot a sleeping Nezha, about to touch his nose*...

Nezha*Snorring but...Snapping his eyes wide and staring at Mk*

Infant!Mk:!?!

Nezha: Monkey Kid do you have a death wish?

Infant!Mk:...No

Mc: You attack from vulnerable points, From behind not the front-RUN IT AGAIN!

Infant!Mk: Otay!*scatters to do it again with an evil laugh*

[novankenn]

(In the Spirit of @howlingday's RU-JA-GUN-CON, and my own Jaune Gets a Gun Au I present... )

"Jaune Gets An Upgrade AU" Day One - (Entrenching Tool)

Ren was still brooding over his newly acquired ability to become a waifu... and was seriously annoyed at Jaune's complete acceptance of that strange fact. While in the back of his mind the true fear about what Nora would do if she ever found out.

Jaune: SO...

Ren: No.

Jaune: But...

Ren: I said no. You are not going back for that dagger thing...

Jaune: I guess. Well we do have these new bracelets, and I think...

Ren: Don't say it. Don't even think of it.

Jaune: Come on Ren. It's a cool ability, that NO one else has!

Ren: It's a inane ability that makes no logical sense!

Jaune: Gee, for a guy who keeps spouting things about being open minded, you sure have a closed view on the whole gender-swap thing.

Ren: ...

Jaune: I wonder how the girls are making out in the firearms section?

Ren: Probably better than we are... and seeing as I haven't heard and screams of terror or explosions...

Jaune: Then Nora and Pyrrha are keeping team RWBY under control.

Ren: Is it weird that it's team RWBY and not Nora we're concerned about causing destruction?

Jaune: Ah, I mean they did blow up the docks and cause millions of lien in damage fighting a mech.

Ren: It was a stolen Atlas Paladin.

Jaune: Right. A mech.

Ren: ...

A pair of figures in the distance causes Jaune to stop in mid stride. Ren notices this and also stops.

Ren: Jaune?

Jaune: I think... is it?

Ren: Is what? Do you see someone you know?

Jaune: It couldn't be... but it has to be.

Ren: Ah... Jaune?

Jaune: It IS!!! Aunt Sally 674735-Arc and Uncle Sam 668843-Arc! Over here!

Ren's brain paused, and then crashed as a pair of very similar looking figures turned to face them. To him, they booth looked exactly the same...

(Images copied from https://warhammeruniverse.com/death-korps-of-krieg/)

Aunt Sally: Jaune!

Uncle Sam: Nephew!

Jaune jogged up to the pair of figures a huge smile on his face, leaving a still bewildered Ren flat footed and behind.

Jaune: Why are you guys here? Last I heard you were deployed to the out reaches to breach a Heretic base?

Aunt Sally: Vacation Days, so we thought we'd come visit some family.

Uncle Sam: We're due back in about a week.

Jaune: Well Mom is going to be thrilled that you're here! Does she know?

Uncle Sam: No. We haven't told her yet. We want it to be a surprise.

Jaune: I won't tell a soul.

Aunt Sallyy: So why are you here, Jaune?

Jaune: I'm here to find an alternate weapon to Crocea Mors.

Uncle Sam: Why?

Jaune: Well.. um...

Aunt Sally: Does your mom know you are in Vale?

Jaune: Well...

Uncle Sam: Jaune?

Jaune: I sort of ran from home to attend Beacon, and borrowed Crocea Mors... WHICH I want to send back, so I need to find something else to serve as my main weapon.

Jaune fidgeted, and by the time Ren finally reset his thoughts and joined him, Jaune looked like he was about to burst into tears, under the stern gaze of the pair of gasmask wearing individuals. At least Ren thought it was a stern gaze. To be honest he really couldn't tell.

Aunt Sally: You're mom has to be worried sick. I suggest you CALL her very soon...

Uncle Sam: Preferably before we visit her and tell her were we saw you. Understand?

Jaune: Yes, and I promise to call her as soon as I finish here.

Uncle Sam: Good boy, now as for a replacement for Crocea Mors... not that much could ever replace such a honorable and venerable blade...

Aunt Sally: How about this?

Ren: That's a... shovel?

Aunt Sally / Uncle Sam / Jaune: HERESY!!!

Ren: huh?

Jaune: That's not a SHOVEL!

Aunt Sally: It's a Munitorum Mk III Sapper Shovel! An intrinsic and iconic part of the Death Korps of Krieg kit of battle!

Ren: Death Korps?

Uncle Sam: Is your friend a heretic?

Jaune: I don't think so? Ren you're not a Heretic disguised as my friend are you?

Ren: ...

[juneknight]

Pleased to Please

The sequel (AKA Jake's Revenge) to Making Trouble.

About this: MK System/fem!reader, use of 'slut' as a term of endearment. An unnecessary amount of gloves. Jake Lockley.

*

You wake up to Marc pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You hum in pleasure, burrowing deeper into the covers, sleepy enough to miss what he says the first time he says it. His voice rumbles over you again, warm with mirth. His hands work the blanket away from your face, and he repeats himself again: 

“I know it’s Sunday, but I have errands to run. Want to come with or stay in?” 

You crack one eye open. 

*

The two of you stand at the bus stop leaning against each other to make room for the others who crowd around for the same purpose. Someone jostles into you, and the look Marc gives them is cold—it makes strange butterflies unfold their wings in your belly. You lean in to press a kiss to his cheek, turning his focus back to you. 

“What errands do you need to run?” you ask in his ear to make sure you are heard over the rumble of traffic. 

“Swapping out supplies,” he says, explaining the duffle bag he has over one shoulder. “Boring stuff, but I’ll buy you coffee after.” 

“Now you’re talking.”

The two of you shuffle your way onto the bus. He crowds you protectively, looping an arm around your waist to keep you close while his hand grips the bar to keep you both steady. You’ve gotten used to taking the bus after meeting Steven. Before him, you had walked or taken the tube, not the biggest fan of London drivers. Occasionally, you and Marc would go in on a cab together; you had never felt safe doing such a thing alone. And with Jake…

Your face flames. Leaning in to whisper in Marc’s ear again, you says: “It’s a shame we don’t have Jake’s car, isn’t it?” 

Marc’s eyes go heavy-lidded, a smirk tugging up the corners of his mouth. He remembers as well as you do your activities in Jake’s car only days before. He glances towards the window of the bus—likely hearing some colorful commentary from the man in question—before turning his eyes back to yours. 

“We’d just end up making more trouble in it, wouldn’t we?” he says back, letting his voice dip low under the guise of privacy, as if he doesn’t know what the timber of it does to you. 

“You’re probably right,” you breathe back. “How much further ‘til our stop?” 

“Not much. You’re already thinking about going back home aren’t you? Crawling back into bed?” 

“As long as you join me.” 

“My god, you two are better than television,” says the woman behind you both who has been clearly standing close enough to hear. You jump, startled by her sudden intrusion into your private conversation, embarrassment making your face burn hot. Thank god she had said something before the two of you really got going—

“Mind your business,” Marc says, uncharacteristically cold as he glares at the woman. 

Middle-aged, clutching a recyclable tote in her arms, the woman looks like her first instinct is to argue back—perhaps something about how the two of you were making your business right there on a public bus—but the look on Marc’s face stops her words in her throat. She shuts her mouth with a click and nods, awkwardly trying to shuffle to a different spot on the bus to stand. 

You frown up at Marc, but he smiles down at you like nothing is wrong. Reaching up, you lay the back of your hand against his forehead. “Are you feeling alright? You’re acting strange.” 

It’s Marc’s turn to frown, his head tilting to one side, warm brown eyes roaming over your face. 

“What do you mean?” he wonders But before you can answer, Marc glances forward and says: “Shit, this is us.” 

He helps you press your way to the front and guides you two back out onto the dreary London street. You glance up at the building, frowning in thought. 

“Storage units? Do you have a unit here?” 

Marc just grins in answer, holding up a  keyfob with the business’s logo on it. 

*

The building is cool and quiet, sounds oddly muffled as you walk through the halls lined on either side with storage units. Occasionally you pass one with the door open, lock hanging loosely on the outside. You shiver. Places like this always make you feel odd, knowing how much history is here, each unit a snapshot of someone’s life. You cheer yourself with the thought that you’re about to see a snapshot of Marc’s. 

When you arrive at unit #43, you bounce a little on your toes as Marc unlocks it and opens the door, a gentleman allowing you entrance first. But whatever you were expecting inside, you cannot help but be disappointed. 

The unit is mostly empty, perhaps ten-by-ten. It is very utilitarian, with walls of alloyed metal shiny enough to see yourself in, even if your figure was a fraction distorted. A lightbulb hangs in the corner casting an unflattering fluorescent glow over the room. There are a series of storage totes, opaque to conceal their contents. A cot is in the corner, with a poor excuse for a pillow and a blanket folded with military precision. 

“Do you sleep here sometimes?” you ask, baffled at the thought. 

“I used to,” says Marc, going to the corner and setting his backpack down. He kneels, the zipper loud in the quiet of the unit. “It was a safe place, a place of my own, before Steven and I—reconciled.” 

That makes you inexplicably sad, imagining Marc spending any length of time here, stretched out on a cot too short for him and listening to the hum of lights all night. 

“That’s terrible,” you murmur.

Marc makes a sound in the back of his throat, derisive, clearly not feeling so maudlin about it. He says something, but you are too entranced by testing the cot, sitting heavily on its coarse fabric. It barely gives under your weight, unyielding and uncomfortable. At last you become aware of his gaze on you. You glance over to see him kneeling at his duffel bag, eyes glittering with some foreign emotion as he watches you. 

“Sorry, what’d you say?” you ask. 

“I said, Take your clothes off.” 

You blink, unsure if you heard him properly. “What?”

“Do it slow,” he adds, his chin tipping down and the look in his eyes simmering into something condensed, something so heated that you can feel it from across the room the way you feel the heat of flames when standing too close to a fire. Shifting, he sits with his back against the wall, one leg outstretched. “I want a show.” 

“I don’t—oh my god,” you whisper. “Jake? Has it been you this whole time?”

He runs a hand through his curls, pressing them back. The grin that settles on his mouth is so unlike Marc. At the beginning of your relationship, you had been so insecure that you would mix the boys up and potentially offend them, but you had quickly learned that such a thing was very unlikely. Each of their personalities was so unique, so distinct from the other: the way they stood (or slouched) the way they walked, the way they smiled and laughed—each of them had a million little tells, characteristics that set them apart. 

“Don’t feel bad,” he says. His voice is a little flatter than Marc’s—less likely to fluctuate with emotion. It is softly accented; you know that he mostly prefers to speak Spanish. “I am very good at what I do.” 

“You even took the bus—oh, Jake you hate the bus—” 

He hums. “We’re walking home.” 

“I just—why? I would have come with you anywhere.” 

“No, you wouldn’t.” 

“How can you say that?”

Jake looks up at you, brow cocked. From within the duffle bag, he removes his leather gloves and begins tugging them on. Those fucking gloves. Something about them makes your heart pound. The buttery softness of them, the scent of well-maintained authentic leather, the methodical,calculated way that he puts them on and takes them off. Or maybe it’s just the connotation that comes with them: that Jake is about to get his hands very, very dirty. 

“Because you’re a good girl,” he croons. “If you had known Marc was taking you to my car, you wouldn’t have gone with him—just the same way you wouldn’t have come with me if you knew I was bringing you here for my revenge.” 

“So this is Marc’s storage unit?” you breathe. 

Jake nods slowly. He says: “You know what else I know?” 

“What?” 

“You’re such a good girl,” he says, voice soft, needing nearly no volume for the sound to carry to you just feet away, “You’re going to take your punishment without complaining. Because you know you deserve it, don’t you?” 

“Jake,” you sigh shakily. 

“Undress,” he says softly. 

You stand up. Your knees are knocking together, you’re so full of adrenalin, hands shaking as you slip clothing item after item off. You fold them the way you know Jake likes you to, sitting them neatly on top of the stack of storage totes. As you turn, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the walls and it makes your face burn. Fuck, you hope that the helpful guy behind the desk out front doesn’t come to see what’s taking you both so long. 

When your eyes find Jake again, you suck in a gasp. All the things you might have suspected he would have—the tripod wasn’t one. Sleek, it is simple but effective. He whistles a little beneath his breath as he fits Marc’s phone into it. When he realizes that you have stopped undressing, his whistling stops, lips puckered softly, dark eyes finding your own. Whatever expression you wear must delight him.

“Problem?”

“Come on, J,” you whisper, shifting on your socked feet. “Marc is going to be pissed enough, isn’t he? What do you plan to make him do, watch it in 3D?” 

Jake points to the tripod, a look of near-comical innocence on his face. Some might not guess that Jake has the silliest humor of the three of them, sometimes bordering on cheesy or even slapstick. Demasiadas telenovelas, as he might say. “What, this? You think—? Oh, darling girl. This isn’t for Marc. 

“The walls? Those are for Marc. Let him see the way I fuck you in every angle, I don’t care. But this? This is for me. I intend to remember this for a very long time,” he says, his words ending distractedly as he plays with Marc’s phone, getting the settings just right. He eyes your socks pointedly.

“It’s cold in here,” you gripe.

Jake snorts softly, but he doesn’t object. He stands and goes to you, gripping your bare shoulder gently and moving you a fraction this way—a hair that way. Into the best view of the camera, you realize. Being treated like some doll, stop-motion, only made to be bent and twisted into whatever shape pleases him has a surprising effect on you. Even as your thighs clench together tightly, you find yourself…bashful. Crossing your arms over your breasts, you shrink in on yourself. 

“Qué es eso?” Jake wonders. He abandons the camera and comes to you. His presence is more comforting than intimidating the way some might imagine it to be. You lean your head against his chest and let his hands encircle your wrists, drawing them away from your chest. “Who is this shy woman? I remember the way you let Marc strip you naked with nothing but my tinted windows to protect your modesty.” 

“You know how he gets,” you whine. “He uses that voice, that tone, and then I’m naked.” 

“This voice?” he asks, mimicking Marc’s Chicagoan accent flawlessly. He slips into it the way you might slip into a comfortable shirt, familiar and well-worn. He leans back away from you a little to grip your chin firmly, to lift it up for his inspection. “This tone?” 

It is. It really is. And as much as it makes your thighs clench, it drives you even wilder how easy it is for him. Jake is so fucking good at it, at pretending, at impersonating—his skill makes you swoon. It makes your heart pound. It makes your pussy wet. 

Jake must sense this. Maybe he senses the ripple that seems to pass through you, or maybe he feels the goosebumps that rise on your arms. Either way, he laughs, soft and teasing, rumbling against where your bury your face in his chest. 

He clicks his tongue at you until you look at him once more. 

“I’ll play Marc for you another day,” he says, eyes growing steelier than the walls. “But right now—it’s me fucking you. I’m going to fuck my cock so deeply inside you that there won’t be any room for him. ¿Me entiendes? 

“Now, lay on the cot. I’m hungry.” 

Jake eats pussy masterfully, but true to character, he is a mess of contradictions. First he spreads your thighs wide, leather-clad thumbs finding your slippery outer folds to part you to his gaze. He lets go and leans in to suck and kiss at every part of you that isn’t your clit: sucking at your folds, tonguing your hole, kissing your thighs. He is clean shaven (like to keep up the charade of Marc), not a hint of painful stubble to chafe your sensitive pussy. 

Jake leads with his tongue and lips, knowing how sensitive you are. For many long moments, he eats you without purpose, like he is giving you head just for the sake of it, no goalpost ahead to punt your orgasm through. 

But then he becomes frantic, pressing his tongue as deeply into you as he can, sucking on your clit, dragging the flat of his teeth against your folds. He is lackadaisical and then frenzied, patient and then desperate.

The whole time, you have both hands over your mouth, nothing but the aborted gasps in your throat, the frantic breaths through your nose, and the wet, lurid sounds of Jake eating your pussy to fill up the quiet room. 

When you get close, your heels dig into his back. He finally either gets bored with you or decides that he’s warmed you up enough. Your loud groan of protest has his eyes sharpening in a warning that makes you flush. He’s right, though. You have to be quiet. 

Jake guides you into the next position he wants, and it’s almost unbearable: on your hands and knees, face towards the camera of Marc’s phone. Jake leaves you like that, on your hands and knees while he undresses slow and methodical, only the slightly warped imagine of him on the metal walls your visual.. 

Sometimes he says something, low and light and Spanish, before chuckling at whatever Marc’s response is. 

“Is he mad?” You wonder, unsure what you want the answer to be. 

“No,” Jake croons, kneeling behind you. He draws you up til you kneel, back pressed flush against his bare chest, cock hard between your thighs. In your ear, he says: “He is livid.”

“Jake,” you whine. 

He clicks his tongue again. He holds up his hand in front of you, leather gloves still in place.

“Open your mouth.” 

You open. Carefully, he has you tug the glove off with your teeth. He holds it while you do the same with the other. Then he makes you open your mouth so he can tuck the palms of his gloves between your teeth for you to hold. 

“Drop those, and you’ll be punished,” Jake says, bare hands smoothing along your back, down your hips, finding your ass. He spanks you, once, hard. A warning that you feel all the way to your toes. “Leave a single mark from your teeth on my leather, and you’ll also be punished.” 

You whine in dismay at this twist, trying to find the perfect balance between keeping the gloves in your mouth but not biting with enough force to leave a mark. Distracted by this, you miss whatever Jake says to his reflection, though his bright laugh at whatever its response is makes you shiver. 

Gently, he urges you back onto your hands and knees. His cock nudges against the wetness between your legs. You make a desperate little sound, shifting, arching your back to offer his cock more contact with your pussy. The fire Jake had lit inside you with his mouth flares to life again, unsatisfied and aching.

“Can you take it?” Jake wonders, slipping and sliding along the seam of you, soaking his cock in your own arousal. “Or do you need my fingers to open you up?”

You try to answer him with the gloves, but the words are nothing but muted sounds. His cockhead, thick enough alone to be a pleasing stretch, presses at your entrance. 

“What was that?” Jake wonders, cupping a hand to his ear. 

No use in trying to tell him twice. Instead you press back, welcoming him into your body. Your eyes shut, and you nearly drop the gloves when your mouth craves to fall open and release a groan. It is by the skin of your teeth (pun intended) that you manage to keep the gloves in your mouth. You seethe with jealousy at the quiet but robust moan that Jake gives out, his fingers dimpling the skin of your hips with force as he grips you and pulls you back further and further on his cock. 

“Impaciente,” he reprimands breathily. “Who is fucking who? Are you fucking me? Go ahead then. Fuck me.” 

Jake lets go of your hips, crossing his arms contemplatively across his chest. You whine, leaning forward and then sinking back onto his cock. The throaty hum that Jake gives makes you shiver, pleased to be pleasing him. You begin an unsure rhythm, rocking on and off his cock.

For a while, it is enough for Jake. But then he takes your hips in his broad hands again. 

“Do you need help? Here.” He gives a series of near-brutal thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping your cunt loud in the enclosed room. You choke on a groan, head falling forward and eyes screwing shut with pleasure—and then a burst of pain across your scalp has your eyes opening as Jake tugs your head up. Back to face the camera. “Head up. I want to see your pretty face. I want to watch you wreck yourself on my cock.” 

He makes you go on like that for an endless amount of time. Eventually you find a rhythm, making sure not to turn your face away from the camera as you rock back against his thighs, taking his cock to the root again and again. 

“Why do you look so sour?” You make a confused sound. Jake’s hand smooths across your flank. His other hand points. “Not you. Him. You’re putting on an amazing show for him, and he isn’t even appreciating it.” 

All of the sudden, there is a distant bang. You freeze, Jake’s cock halfway buried inside you. Distantly–so distantly, you can hear the sound of approaching footsteps. Behind you, Jake’s body begins to shake with quiet laughs even as your own seems to seize with terror at the thought of being caught. The lock for the unit only hangs loosely, offering the two of you no privacy should someone decide to investigate the noise and open the door. 

Jake draws you up, lowering himself onto his haunches as he tugs you back against his chest. In your ear, he murmurs: “Perhaps Marc is the only person we should give a show to. Oh—oh no? You’re shaking your head, but your cunt can’t lie to me. Not when I know her so well. If you don’t want anyone to see what a beautiful little slut you are, then you had best keep quiet.” 

Keep quiet—simple, except that he reaches down between your legs, fingers tracing along your stretched entrance, and then dragging up over your sensitive, otherwise-ignored clit. Your body jerks, desperate to get away from the sudden stimulus and desperate to get closer all at once. You whine, the sound echoing off the walls and back to you. It takes all of your fortitude to press your tongue to the roof of your mouth and try to stifle any further noises. 

Jake takes your clit between his fingers and rubs softly, purring into the nape of your neck at the way your pussy spasms around his cock. In the distance, the footsteps draw closer, the quiet murmur of voices heard. Can they hear you as well as you can hear them? Fuck, you imagine they can. Your orgasm, so far denied of you, swells low and sweet in your belly, and you dread it just as much as you ache for it—

All at once, a warmth fills you, Jake’s cock twitching where it is buried deep inside you. He groans so quietly against your skin, trailing off into a little breathless laugh. The feel of his spend filling you has your cunt clenching, approaching that edge. But before you can let yourself trip over the ledge and down into pleasure’s abyss, Jake’s fingers freeze. 

Did you hear that? a voice asks. Your heart pounds, entire body flashing hot and then cold with panic. Jake’s hand reaches up and wraps around you throat, fingers flexing gently in warning. As if you need one!

Rats, probably. City’s got ones bigger than your cock—not that that’s saying much. 

You make too many jokes about my cock for a bloke who's straight. 

The voices begin to fade away. Jake’s fingers relax, stroking the line of your throat softly. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs in your ear. “Very good girl, keeping quiet, fucking me so good. Did you cum?” 

As if he doesn’t already know. You shake your head, slow and emphatic, gloves flapping softly against your cheeks. 

“Do you want to cum?” 

A nod. 

“Roll over. On your back. Shh, shh—I know it’s cold.” 

You lay there shivering, looking up at him, the taste of leather on your tongue. You’re nearly shaking with need, thighs spread so he can kneel between them. He’s cum, but his cock hardly looks softened, flush and dark between his legs. Jake grips his cock and strokes himself a few times, the muscles in his belly tensing. He is so fucking hot, you feel like if you laid here long enough looking up at him, you would cum. 

With his other hand, Jake reaches for Marc’s phone. He works it softly off of the tripod and turns the screen to face you, lets you look at yourself in the front facing camera. Your hands cover your eyes at the brief glimpse you catch of yourself looking so fucked-out, thighs splattered with pearly seed, cunt swollen, nipples hard, those fucking gloves held between your teeth.

Jake laughs softly as he takes the camera and turns it the proper direction so that he can film you. “Hands down, what did I say? I said I want to see your pretty face.” 

Two of his fingers, thick and strong, slip inside you. Your hands fall away from your eyes, mouth going slack enough that the gloves slip dangerously and you have to tighten your lips to keep from dropping them altogether. Jake’s grin behind the phone is downright sinful as he takes obvious, obscene pleasure in your struggle. His fingers squelch as he begins a moderate pace of fucking you with them. 

“All you have to do is ask me, and I’ll make you cum.” He pauses to slip his fingers from you and drag the mess of yourself up over your sensitive clit, delighting in your whine and writhe. “So go ahead and ask real pretty. I’m all ears.” 

You ask, words severely muffled around the gloves. 

“I can’t understand,” he says, pointing the phone towards your pussy in a move that has tears filling your eyes with how tightly your cunt grips at his fingers. You didn’t know you liked being filmed so much—wouldn’t have imagined such a thing in a thousand years. “Keep asking. I like to hear you struggle. Say, ‘Please make me cum, Jake’.”

You’re desperate enough to keep trying, feeling the muscles in your belly tighten, though you desperately wish he would stroke your clit. You would cum nearly straight away, you are so close to the precipice. You repeat his words. 

“Who? Did you say—Marc?”

Your eyes widen in panic, head shaking furiously. You repeat his name again and again, though he puckers his lips to look doubtful. He slips his fingers out of you again and you nearly wail, desperate for the release you have worked so hard to earn. But instead of taking his hands away, Jake takes your slippery clit between his fingers again, working the little pleasurable knot with dextrous, merciless skill. 

You cum before you know you are cumming, back arching against the chilly floor, barely aware of Jake tugging the gloves from between your teeth to hear the way your voice grits out his name. He rubs and softly pinches your most sensitive flesh until you are whining and shaking and whispering for him to stop, it is too much, you are too sensitive. 

He adjusts the camera to take in your entire expression: dilated, heavy-lidded eyes, mouth swollen and parted, tears clinging to your lashes. 

“Good girl,” he says again, soundly absurdly pleased. He sets the phone down, using the free hand to smooth softly across your trembling belly as you are riddled with spasms and shivers in the aftermath of your release. 

Then, a sound you dread, one you dread more than even footsteps or voices: 

Jake clicks his tongue in displeasure. 

Eyes wet and wide, voice raspy from your whines and cries, you ask, “What is it?” 

His eyes flash up to you, smile spreading slow and dangerous across his face. It makes you shiver, makes your pussy clench. He holds up his glove, pointing. “What is that? Hm? There, denting the leather.” 

A toothmark. 

“Looks like you are due for that punishment after all.”

Gripping both gloves loosely in one hand, Jake brings them down to spank your clit.

*

I'm currently raising money to afford the emergency care provided to my perpetual-pup who passed away on 8/25. Please consider leaving a tip if you enjoyed this; every penny goes to him. Reblogs are invaluable. And come leave a request in my inbox, if you'd like.

[lint-beetle4]

Shadowpeach “paint me like one of your French girls” where Wukong uses Mac as a model for a series of increasingly explicit artworks. He also uses his clones several different outfits ( possible cross dressing?) rope and a variety of toys to complete the “scenes” maybe Mac even swaps sexes for some of them. Mac has to struggle to stay still enough for the artwork while getting destroyed from the pleasure and praise ( the dude almost definitely has a thing for being complemented imo). He just has to sit there take it and look pretty what else could you want from a muse?

The Perfect Muse (Shadowpeach Lime)

(I drew a picture for this, because I'm a simp for Macaque being pretty)

(Suggestive content below)

"Wukong--out of all the hobbies you could've picked up, why painting?"

The monkey in question shrugged, twirling a paintbrush between his fingers. "MK said I needed hobbies aside from watching TV and doing nothing, so he taught me how to paint--thought I'd give it a try to see how it works out."

"And how do I come into play?" Macaque rolled his eyes. "I doubt my artistic skill could aid you in learning how to paint."

"That's just the thing!" Wukong grinned, wrapping an arm around his partner. "You're my muse!"

"You're what--?"

"Y'know, my muse--I'm going to paint you." Wukong tilted his head, "How about it?"

Macaque stared at the sage, shock and confusion fading into slight curiousity. "...So do I just stand here or--?"

Wukong stuttered slightly, becomingly strangely bashful. "Well, actually-- Remember those outfits we got for you to try on?"

"The skirts--yeah, I remember them. They were pretty."

"Yeah! You looked really good in them, so I just wanted to--y'know--paint you with them on."

Macaque's ear twitched, the glamour shifting around them as he processed Wukong's words. With a slight flick of his tail, Macaque grinned slyly, eyes piercing into Wukong.

"So you want a show then?"

Wukong stammered more. "It's not like that, just for practice!"

"Right, Wukong." Macaque stood behind the blushing simian, whispering in his ear. "Wait for me, I'll pick out my favorite outfit just for you."

Macaque left, hearing the sounds of Wukong rushing to prepare various supplies.

The darker monkey pulled on the skirt that barely covered him, fishnets stopping at the tips of his thighs. Darker clothes lined his wardrobe, the simian finding that he looks best in them with red and purple running through them.

Examining the clothing on his, Macaque adjusted the collar of the loose dress shirt that outlined his body far more than it should--Wukong always eyed him more when he wore it.

Outside of the room, Macaque heard Wukong muttering about various paints, and Macaque ran out of the room at the mere, heart-breaking words of Wukong about to dunk his expensive oil paints into a cup of water.

"Wukong, if I see that paintbrush has anything but paint, I'll rip your fingernails out." Macaque called out, seeing the the brush dangling inches above the cup.

Wukong smiled, a blush appearing quickly on his face. "You look amazing! Are you ready?"

"Sure, what pose do you want?" Macaque played with the tips of his black skirt.

Wukong hummed, circling Macaque briefly. "How about you sit on the ground and do what's most comfortable for you?"

Macaque shrugged, laying on the ground, legs crossed as he leaned back. "Like this?"

"Yeah!" Wukong beamed, starting to mix his colors. "You looks great like that!"

Macaque blushed slightly, turning away from Wukong as the monkey began painting, his eyes glancing at Macaque intensely. Macaque felt a familiar stirring in his core with each bit of eye contact they shared. He only hoped that the skirt would hide anything. After a semi-painful hour or two of Wukong muttering to himself, giving Macaque those damned, piercing glances, Wukong hummed, a signal he was done.

Macaque stood up, wiping off his skirt. The painting was modest--hell, Macaque even looked good--

"Not bad," Macaque nodded, looking closely at the painting. "I see MK taught you about anatomy as well. Everything looks solid."

Wukong's tailed swayed happily, his face full of pride. "This old monkey still has a few tricks to him, huh?"

Macaque chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned against Wukong subtly. "Sure, you do. You gonna keep this up?"

"Yeah!" Wukong chirped, "Actually, I wanted you to do one more thing--this was a bit of warm up before I tried anything else."

"Oh?" Macaque tilted his head, his tail flicking with slight interest. "Do you need another pose?"

Wukong averted his eyes slightly, a blush growing strong on her face. "Well--this is just for us to see, first of all! Second, I was wondering if I could tie you up--and maybe paint you like that?"

"And you're sure this isn't 'like that?'" Macaque smirked, hiding the excited shock coursing through his veins.

Wukong laughed, his face still red. "Well--It wasn't supposed to be."

"Okay, Wukong." Macaque rolled his eyes. "If you're going to tie me up, I'm getting red rope-- It's my color."

Wukong nodded, shaking away his blush as he went to grab another canvas. When Macaque returned with the rope, his body felt strangely weak, his limbs unusually shaky. Under his breath, the monkey hissed--trying to will his body to compose itself.

Macaque shifted a leg--still intent on hiding his slowly growing issue-- as Wukong came back, hands reached out for the rope.

"So," Wukong's voice boomed loudly in Macaque's ear, the darker monkey's heart rate growing fast. "What designs do you think would look good? You're the artist, right?"

Macaque hummed, clearing his throat slightly. "Tying my hands back behind my face will draw more attention there--maybe something intricate for the legs, and relatively simple for the body."

Wukong nodded, beginning the first set of knots.

Macaque felt as if the gods had finally given him their graces. Wukong's hands trailed through his clothing, light touches feeling like electricity in his skin and eyes continuing to send waves of intimidation and excitement through his blood. Macaque's heart beat loudly in his ears as Wukong made final touches, tying Macaque to a rather sturdy wood beam that none of them fully trusted.

Wukong quickly returned to his canvas, a grin on his face.

"Wow, you really do look beautiful, y'know?"

Macaque tensed slightly, forcing his body to quickly relax as more waves of pleasurable emotions flowed through him. "Um--thanks."

Wukong's painting took forever to Macaque. The first time he was on the floor, able to discretely conceal his growing boner. Yet now?

"You're doing great! Just stay there like that!"

He was suspended in the air, skirt hiking in the wrong places and draping heavily over certain parts. Macaque felt as if he was dying with each second, but despite everything, Wukong seemed to take longer.

"The light captures you really well, y'know. You almost look ethereal!"

Wukong hummed as he looked at Macaque's body, one eye closed as he painstakingly measured with his paintbrush and thumb.

"I like the face you're making. You always look so pretty when you're angry."

Macaque's breath shuddered slightly.

It was the damned compliments--every single bit of praise sent pleasure through his core, his cock twitching against the rough fabric of his skirt.

"Hey, let me see those beautiful eyes of yours. I want to get the color right."

Even the way the sage looked at Macaque with those piercing eyes examining his limbs and position, it excited Macaque--like he was a statue being admired by eyes around him.

"Alright, I think I'm done." Wukong grinned, walking up to Macaque.

Macaque had stopped trying to fight his body at some point, trembling with shaky breaths as Wukong merely looked at his slightly disheveled form with a strange gaze...A knowing gaze--the damned ape.

Wukong knelt down, holding Macaque's chin to look into his lover's eyes. "No painting could ever replicate how nice you look now."

Macaque groaned under his breath, huffing at Wukong whose hands were trace along the ropes decorating Macaque's body.

"A real piece of work." Wukong chuckled, purposely avoiding macaque's groin. "You deserve a treat for being so patient."

Macaque stayed silent, eyes pleading Wukong as he stared expectantly. "What do you say now?"

"Please--" Macaque stuttered, legs now quivering in the air. "I would like a reward."

"Good boy."

[quitealotofsodapop]

What are the differences between Shihou and Wukong?

Shihou is... calmer. But only barely.

Because he's had his twin brother acting as the "fun one" in his place, Shihou doesn't feel forced to be the life of the party as he would be as Sun Wukong.

Shihou still goes to Subodhi/Subhuti to study and understand what he and Luzhen may be. Maybe the twins even partake in twin-swapping to get a break from their respective responsibilities.

Subodhi, knows who it is: "Sun Wukong - do you the kanji homework I gave you yesterday?" Luzhen, disguised as his brother: "UH... yeah! Totally! It's uh... probably in my room." Subodhi: (*suspicious hum*) Luzhen: (*visibly sweating*) Subodhi: "Try to keep better care of your papers in future Sun. As punishment, your senior acolytes will oversee your kanji practice for the afternoon." Luzhen: "Oh! Ok, thanks Subod- I mean Master!" Subodhi, tired sigh: "Hopefully the other one gets back soon. Teaching two monkeys at once is making me age again." (*Meanwhile on Flower Fruit Mountain*) Shihou: "Why is there a music stage in the throne room?" Marshal Ma: "Your brother has discovered a talent for what he calls Rock Music."

Demon King of Havoc barely gets his foot in the door cus once he tries to commit a full assault on Flower Fruit Mountain - both brothers are flying at him with all the Ruyi Jingu Bang.

(Luzhen was the one who bullied the dragons into getting his big bro some decent weapons and armour.)

With room to breathe; Shihou doesn't need to make hasty decisions or flaunt himself in front of other demons. His brother is there to support him along the way, even if their similarities get them into trouble in Heaven.

In the Stone Matriarch verse; Shihou is very much a nerdy crown prince, compared to his more light-hearted twin. But he still gets into trouble out of boredom or because of his strong sense of justice - hence mucking out the stables for 500 years as punishment for an ill-planned protest/banquet ruining.

In the Twin Suns au; Wukong is far more cautious and less cheeky, wanting to ensure that his successor understands what is going on and how important this means to him to take up the Staff. He def tries the diplomatic route with the Bull family before letting MK go hero on them. That is of course unless Luzhen appears mid-fight riding a cloud like a surfboard, asking why DBK and PIF are acting so uncool?

I've joked that Luzhen and Shihou's dynamic is like Cuphead and Mugman - and that comparison still fits.

[buggyjuggie]

I know this might be a weird request but I saw on one of your old post and it was mentioning a swap AU with kenshi and Johnny, I wanted to do something kinda similar and it be instead swap, be opposite personality (ex johnny instead of being confident and cocky hes timid and insecure) I'm new to MK so im not sure how opposite kenshi would be but I hope you understand, if you have any questions feel free to ask me again!

──★ ˙ ̟Johnny and Kenshi Swap personalities AU

( There’s little hints of johnshi here but can be read as just platonically)

「 ✦ Kenshi ✦ 」

* So because this is swapped personality but not positions Kenshi i imagine is in a higher rank in the yakuza than normal.

* Because of his cocky attitude he takes more jobs and is more confident about his missions.

* He still doesn’t like doing them but he hides his guilt using his personality.

* I feel 50/50 about the idea of him being a show off for example in MK1 Johnny tends to show off his wealth, fame, movies, everything but i feel like even in this AU if Kenshi did it would make him look insane on one hand he’d do it because of the amount of time he’s spent in this bussines has at least semi desensitised to it but im not sure at the same time cuz i dont feel like it’ll fit his character so idk let me know what you think.

* When Kenshi broke into Johnny’s mansion i want you to imagine the scene where johnshi + Kung lao are walking to Baraka’s village and basically take the dialogue and put it here Kenshi just straight up shit talking Johnny to his face

* After losing to Johnny, Kenshi is absolutely pissed because he’s never failed a mission.

* Johnny and Kenshi’s relationship initially starts off very hostile they bicker argue and insult each other but trough training at the academy they slowly start to put that behind them and it evolves to a sort of rivalry less hating each other and more competitive if that makes sense.

* Kenshi was surprised when Johnny gave him Sento while yes he’s cocky and acts childish Kenshi still feels guilty for all the lives that he has taken while being a part of the yakuza, Kenshi doesn’t feel like he deserves this until Johnny explains his reasonings and slowly starts to put the past behind him and starts hope for a brighter future.

「 ✦ Johnny ✦ 」

* Because his personality is different in this AU instead of being knows for action movies Johnny is most known for horror and historical films.

* His social media presence is small but he’s still got big fanbase that likes him for his mysterious aura.

* Because of his now more silent personality when Johnny drops movie quotes in conversations it tends to sound more ominous and makes people scared of him.

* Johnny and Cris break up still for the same reason as normal : Johnny’s spending habits and perhaps some looked over alcohol problems.

* Did not understand at all what was going on when Kenshi broke in. Whas this a movie ? A prank ? Or is it real ? Dont look at him because he doesn’t know either.

* Johnny keeps sento to himself not because of it’s monitory gain instead for it’s history and doesn’t give it to Kenshi because he think that he’s untrustworthy.

* Eventually after being in the Wu Shi academy for long enough he starts to slowly open up to the people around him.

* Kenshi tends to rile him up so after a while when he gets annoyed he’ll talk shit back to Kenshi and they’ll be off just bickering (like love birds WHO SAID THAT)

* As for the dreaded Mileena poking Kenshi’s eyes out™ i imagine it goes pretty much the same Johnny realises that Kenshi saved him. Even trough all the bickering and rivalries that they had Kenshi still choose to sacrifice his sight for him.

* After the incident Johnny gives Sento to Kenshi as a token of his appreciation of the man and the sacrifice that he committed.

「 ✦ Random hc, these can be read as platonic or romantic ✦ 」

* Because Kenshi was part of the yakuza since he was young he didn’t have many chances to see any type of movies so when Johnny suggest to watch something Kenshi is on board,he’s really excited and keeps talking and making comments while watching.

* Kenshi’s favourite movies tend to be action and thrillers.

* Yes Johnny did show Kenshi the movies he played in but only because he was forced to after loosing a bet. Kenshi just talked about how hot Johnny was.

* Because Johnny doesn’t flaunt his fame like in MK1 his mansion is diffrent. It’s smaller, has simple designs, the awards that he’s won in his carrier are stored on a shelf in another room, all the items he bought are expensive but in the modern art type of way aka simple shapes, basic colours, some of them are small and don’t take up too much space.

* Johnny and Kenshi have different aesthetics when it comes to clothing Johnny tends to wear more basic and neutral colours while Kenshi if he’s not on some sort of mission wears more vibrant clothing.

* Ok i know this one is basic and practically canon to the fandom but still i gotta do it. Johnny buys Kenshi blindfolds, they tend to differ in colour so Kenshi can match them to the outfit that he’s currently wearing some of them have embroidery on the front(?) to make them fancy.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Happy new years !!! I wanted to get this out before new years in my time zone so I’m a bit late lol. This one was a bit hard to write and get idea and I’m REALLY hoping that i didn’t make the character OOC if i did please let me know so i can improve but yeah hope you like this :3

[hatt0riart]

I WANTED TO MAKE MORE THAN JUST THIS but it took like. a week to get done and im sick these days

anyways in light of mk1's nonsense i revisited some koncepts i had for a roleswap au. i took hanzo's inspiration from a mix of mkx and mk11 outfits and kuai i kind of just winged it based off my own preferences in past appearances!!

more rambling is under the cut about the actual AU :-]

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY ART ON ANY OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA OR CROP THEM FOR ICONS. THANK YOU!

SO I HAVE NOT ACTUALLY DEVELOPED THIS BEYOND SOME OLD SKETCHES I HAD OF KUAI'S DESIGN but i had some general ideas of how this was supposed to work???

the shirai ryu is still alive and well! he's still a family man and very clan oriented. satoshi is still born and grows into his clan's responsibilities, however harumi dies in child birth.

the lin kuei on the other hand is Not Doing Well. they end up getting wiped out during a raid from the shirai ryu and most of kuai's immediate family (whether by choice or blood) ends up going down with them.

prior to this kuai ends up passing after a failed mission to retrieve the map of elements from the shaolin temple in an attempt to prove himself to his clan. (instead of bi-han being the one set on that path, kuai ends up taking the initiative instead WAY before he's ready without anyone's knowledge and ends up dying when met with scorpion.)

most of it is similar how it is in actual canon for how scorpion's story goes. he gets resurrected he pledges loyalty to quan chi in order to get revenge, blah blah blah. mortal kombat happens. the two meet again at some point.

kuai's still on that "you killed my family" juice but its...more so about familial ties (like bi-han and smoke) rather than it being the love(s) of his life (like hanzo's wife and son) , seeing as he died young from his own overzealous nature.

very much has anger issues. he's impatient and has alot shorter of a temper by comparison to scorpion in the original canon. hardly ever humbled until that point lol

hanzo on the other hand is surprisingly more lax. meditates often, drinks alot of tea and while he *IS* stressed he handles it alot better than kuai does. maybe has a problem of ignoring his problems though for the sake of the task at hand.

kuai ends up harassing hanzo alot in this AU even outside of the tournament. he's kind of a bitchy ghost there to remind hanzo of what happened to him and lowkey hanzo guilts over it.

kuai has alot of grim reaper motifs in his design. he carries a scythe made of ice primarily and fights at a more long distance range.

hanzo on the other hand is alot more of an up close brawler. he keeps alot of design traits from mkx with a bit of mk11 sprinkled in for inspiration of his "classic" design.

STILL A PYROMANCER!! i just havent thought out how. he's just regarded with a bit more respect for having those unnatural abilities lol

but yeah this is just me spitballing in bullet points. i'm hoping to make more stuff later that is a bit more...thought out properly but it follows more of like

mk mythologies --> mk9 -> mkx

type of timeline i guess? except hanzo is in bi-han's position and kuai ends up being put in scorpion's. bi-han doesn't really have a place in the AU outside of being a background character and driving motive for kuai's vengeance later on. (though we're not gonna talk about how bi-han's mentality eventually fed into kuai's at a young age and made him come to the conclusions he did before he died.... maybe.)

smoke exists for the sake of painful flashbacks lol

satoshi's also a bg character but he does end up growing up with the shirai ryu and takes on his own share of clan responsibilities. idk whether or not he takes after hanzo's pyromancy or not in this AU but either way he grows up to be a well respected figure in the clan!

alot of stuff outside of this remains the same though, just the lin kuei and shirai ryu's dynamics get swapped.

ANYWAYS YEAH IF YOU READ THRU ALL THIS THANKS FOR READING BYEEEE (i'll be adding to this au more later on when i finish my other sketches lol)