#og sub-zero

Johnny Cage: Younger!Johnny has no time for clumsiness and will roll his eyes whenever you trip up the stairs (how is that even a thing? Surely gravity should stop that? Stupid science). He’s a bit of a twat, let’s be honest. It’s when baby Cassie comes along that he experiences his own clumsiness for the first time. Being woken countless times a night and surviving for months on little to no sleep turns the once smoothly graceful man into a stumbling mess. It also shows him how dangerous a home can be and after he’s tripped over a dropped baby bottle seemingly 100 times in one night that he calls in his PA and has the apartment (Penthouse) baby (and sleepy Dad) proofed. Dad!Johnny is a much more understanding and kind man. “Noooooooooo!” Johnny runs into the kitchen, hair wet from the shower and sticking up in every possible direction, towel flapping, fists held in front of him, his entire body radiating green light. “You ok, baby?” You’re speechless, scared and he’s now worried. It’s after a good few minutes of him searching the kitchen, spouting off threats of serious bodily harm that you find your voice. “I’m sorry, please don’t be angry with me I didn’t mean to I’m sorry please don’t Hulk-out!” He’s puzzled at first, and kinda worried you’re unwell. that’s when he notices the green glow lighting up the kitchen. His face flushes red and he’s so damn adorable that you can’t help but pull him into your arms, and when you finally get him to tell you about the ‘glow’ you just about die with happiness. You wake him up the next morning wearing all the green clothes you own. “You ‘Hulking-out’ now, sweetheart?” “It’s my way of glowing, you know, cos I love you too.” Maybe you didn’t need to dig out that ill fitting green shirt, because he has that off you in mere seconds, and everything else you’re wearing. Neither of you leave the bedroom until you really need a sandwich. And he offers to make it this time. Nightwolf: He’s not one to comment on any clumsiness, that would be mean and the last thing he’d ever want to do is make you feel uncomfortable or ashamed of something you can’t really control. If you repeatedly drop or squish things he’ll rearrange his home to make it easier for you to move without bashing your hip into the edge of the table, repeatedly. He’ll think about why you might be clumsy, are you not paying attention, or is the table possessed by an evil demon who likes to watch you hurt yourself on it’s sharp corners? Maybe you’re overly stressed by your job? He wants to help, he wants you to be happy and besides, if your hip is sore then that might get in the way of rolling about naked together in the forest and that is not ok. “Noooooooooo!” Nightwolf runs into the kitchen in the most heroic way, hair loose and majestic, an axe tightly held ready to vanquish whatever is making you shout. He finds you pouting at a happy Kiba licking at the floor. “Are you alright, my love?” When it comes out that you’re sad because you dropped your sandwich on the kitchen floor and Kiba snaffled it in one big bite, Nightwolf is stunned. He puts down the axe and pulls you into his arms, stroking your back and trying oh so very hard not to laugh. “I’ll make you a new one, and we can go outside and watch the sunset whilst you eat it.” Nightwolf is the best. Especially when he’s butt naked and howling with pleasure into the night as you ride him, sandwich forgotten and uneaten in the picnic basket he put together. Bi-Han: The man can move as silently as smoke and as fluidly as water, so honestly, your clumsiness does annoy him. But he does admire that you don’t make a big deal (usually), that you clean up any mess, and you don’t ask him to modify his home to suit you, rather you accept you’re going to bash your hips against the edge of the table, or hit your head when you open a cabinet when looking for his secret chocolate supply (he’ll deny he has one). If you’re living together or at least spending time together out of bed, then he has actual feelings for you, so accepts your clumsiness as part of you, and wouldn’t dream of asking or trying to get you to change. He loves you as you are, clumsy dork or not, and you love him just the way he is, a big scary (sexy) assassin. “Noooooooooo!” Bi-Han saunters into the kitchen. He’s an exceptionally skilled assassin, he can tell if there is someone else is in the house, and it’s just you, and from the sound of it, you’ve dropped your sandwich. He leans against the doorframe and watches you sulk. “You’re cute when you pout.” You have to stomp over to the fridge to hide the smile that tries to erase your pout. When you find you’ve had the last of the cheese you really do pout. Bi-Han just grins that infuriating gin of his and nods towards a bag on the table. Inside is cheese, crisp salad leaves and your favourite bread from your favourite bakery, all the way over the other side of town. He knew you were running low on supplies and didn’t want you to go hungry. You reward him with a long lingering kiss and don’t even mention the blood smear staining the bag. Best not to. Plus Bi-Han has his hands under your top and you’d really rather not distract him from that. Kenshi: He would never deliberately intrude upon your thoughts without your express permission, but sometimes, especially if you’re thinking hard or are emotional about something, your thoughts project too loudly to ignore. There are also times that Kenshi feels he has to read your thoughts, for example if you’re upset or he’s genuinely worried about you. Your clumsiness confused him at first, he’d hear shrieks or thuds, you’d wince if he pressed against a bruise as his hands explored your body, and it took him breaching his own rules on telepathy and reading your mind to see what really happened. So he was relieved to find that you were not in danger, no-one was hurting you or making you anxious enough to lose focus and hurt yourself; you just lost focus on your surroundings, weren’t spatially aware of your own body or were paying attention to something else enough to walk into the wall, again. “Noooooooooo!” Kenshi strolls into the kitchen as the sandwich levitates off the ground and back onto the plate you’re holding. “My hero!” You squeak and rush to hug him. He’s a fantastic hugger so you barely need an excuse to wrap your arms around his wiry frame. The sandwich starts sliding off the plate again so Kenshi calmly hovers them both onto the table to let you hug him tighter. “Was this just a ploy to get me in your arms?” You laugh and hug him tighter. “No, but would you object if I tried it in the future? Or we can just pretend I’ve dropped my sandwich and you can still be all handsome and heroic and save me from possessed food?” His laughter is silenced by your lips pressing to his own and hands that tug at his crisply pressed shirt. His smile is too beautiful not to kiss. Kabal: Not only is he a speed demon, but he’s graceful as well. Quite how he can zip around at speeds so fast Sonic would be jealous AND manage not to knock anything over and avoid pedestrians is frankly unfair. At the start of your relationship he’ll zoom around moving things out of your way, but after you explain it feels overly protective and nannying, he stops (unless you're in serious danger). He understands your need to feel free, to grab onto any small chunks of personal freedom that you can, and admires that you can accept your ‘flaws’. He does tease you about it if you bump into something, but gently and with a smile, and he knows you can’t resist his smiles, so it’s doubly good, right? “Noooooooooo!” He’s there before you finish groaning out your frustration. “You ok?” “Dropped my sandwich.” He can’t help but laugh. “And there was me thinking it was a monster. Kinda hoped it was a monster so I could show off and slice it into pepperoni so you’d swoon and offer me anything I wanted for being your saviour.” “Oh, is that how it is?” You grin and grab a hold of his shirt, tugging him to press against you. He raises an eyebrow and grins, eyes sparkling. “You want me to get on my knees and show you how grateful I am for you rescuing me from the big bad sandwich?” It’s after you both breathlessly get to your feet having rolled around on the kitchen floor, that you notice what happened to the sandwich. Kabal jokingly offers you the bum-flattened bread. You both end up on the floor again when you tell him you’d rather eat his ass. Kano: Drop his stuff and he’ll get pissed off, drop your own and he’ll laugh. And if you drop food then he’s fully into the 5 second (or minutes/hours) rule. Food is food, and when you grow up dirt poor then a little bit of floor on your sandwich isn’t enough to throw it away. If you’re in a casual/fuck buddy thing with him then he’s not going to see you enough to witness your clumsiness, but once he develops feelings for you and wants you around, he finds pretty much everything you do cute and lovable. “Noooooooooo!” Kano barrels into the kitchen like a sexy (sexier?) crocodile Dundee, knives out, tits out, red eye glowing menacingly. He’s used to all manner of fuck off deadly shit in Australia, and in Russia you may not have ‘death on eight legs’ or Jaws waiting mouth open in a puddle, but you do get bears, wolves, and angry bastards who’ve run out of vodka. “You ok, love?” You pout and point to the floor. Your meticulously made sandwich (and you’d been thinking about it all day) lay on the floor. “Well, whilst you’re down there, love?” His grin is filthy and despite the horrendous line, you laugh. “Oh no, think it’s my turn, don’t you?” “Don’t have to ask me twice.” For a man his size he is far faster than you’d imagine, and he has his tongue inside you before you can really catch your breath. He even gives you the bigger half of the sandwich afterwards. He’s a softy really.

When baby Cassie comes along his worldview does a 180*. He doesn’t have time to think about himself anymore, all he cares about is his child and making sure she is safe and happy. He becomes a greater person, less selfish, more humble, kind and caring. It’s when he picks little!Cassie up from school and hears the whispers and notices the admiring glances from the single parents, (and let’s face it, the not so single ones too) that he remembers his younger days and mentally face palms. Not that an admiring glance is a bad thing, it’s just who he was inside, and he’s glad he’s not him anymore. He notices you giving his physique some admiring glances, your cheeks darkening and the corners of your mouth curling despite your very best efforts to hide your smiles. He respects that you try your very best to hide your feelings for him, but he’s still a cheeky git and sometimes wears his most ass hugging trousers he owns around you just to get you to flush even brighter pink than you normally do. The night after an attack on the Special Forces base by some Black Dragon idiots, a portion of the housing huts lay in rubble and smoke. Johnny is the first out, safety gloves and goggles reluctantly on, but stripped to the waist. His muscles are bulging, biceps shining with beads of sweat as he picks up rebar and joists as if they were made of foam and carries them over to a large skip and tossing them in seemingly with no effort at all in. A quick wipe of his forehead with the back of his glove, a wink at you from behind his goggles, and he’s striding back to the devastation to heft more debris over his shoulder. There gets to be quite a crowd, all of you just gawking at the muscle-bound adonis. Each time he bends over to tug at a chunk of rebar, you sigh in unison at seeing his ass strain at his trousers. When he straightens and hefts the rebar over his shoulder (biceps bulging even more impressively) you each in unconscious unison lift a hand to your mouth as if a delicate Edwardian heroines seeing your brave husband help save poor orphans from a fire started by the cruel Reverend Kano. It’s Cassie who laughingly points out the crowd of “Dad’s groupies” to Johnny. Johnny has been so into the task at hand that he didn’t even notice after a while. He gives a sheepish wave and bows with a flourish, then gets back to clearing the rubble. A rush of heat flares in your cheeks at realising you’ve been doing nothing but staring, and pulls you back into reality. You quickly rush in to help with the effort, pulling on your own pair of gloves and grab at a far lighter chunk of rubble. Later that night a knock on your door rouses you from where you lay dozing on your sofa. You’d spent hours helping out, and tried so very hard not to stare at Johnny and imagine him in spandex and domino mask because, let’s face it, he’s practically a superhero, and only recently got back to your own quarters where you’d stumbled into the shower and flopped on the sofa to doze. Pulling open the door you’re greeted by a smiling Johnny. “Hope I’m not interrupting?” It takes a good few seconds of blinking and dry mouth before you shake your head and motion Johnny to enter. He smells of expensive soap, his hair is still wet from a shower, and fuuuuck, he’s so beautiful you almost whine. “Good.” He winks, then scoops you up in his arms and carries you inside, laughing when you squeak with delight. “Now, maybe I’ve noticed how you’ve been looking at me, and thought we could do something about that?” With ease and an even wider grin, he tosses you back onto the sofa and waits for you reply. You’re not going to turn him down, are you? Bi-Han: Bi-Han takes his rigorous and strenuous training very seriously. His has to live up to his Grandfather’s mantel and show these other arseholes just how fucking amazing he is. He could do it all in the sleep, but he wants to be perfect and that takes effort, so he will train until he knows he is unstoppable, and then he’ll train some more to make those biceps and pecs mesmerisingly perfect. He’s used to jealous looks from the rest of the Lin Kuei; even Sektor can’t hide his seething rage at being inferior to the beautiful cryomancer. After coming second to him in every contest, in every class, Sektor finally loses his fraying hold on his temper and attacks Bi-Han in a futile attempt to prove that he was the star pupil of the Lin Kuei, not this upstart orphan. Sektor ends up in the infirmary, (almost the morgue) with an enormous spike of ice through his chest and his ego wounded even more viciously. Bi-Han goes back to training after calmly placating the Grandmaster, who is quite understandably worried that his son Sektor may die. Bi-Han is not just physically gifted, he can charm his way out of almost any situation, and with a few words and some first class acting talent, he assures the Grandmaster that Sektor made a grave error and Bi-Han was simply doing what he had been trained, to defend himself and the honour of the Lin Kuei. Bi-Han calmly focuses and calls ice to form between his moving hands, ordering it to form wickedly sharp spikes. His biceps bulge with the effort, his teeth gritting and every muscle in his body quivers as he draws the ice into the form he demands. Targets spring into life around him and he leaps, turning not only himself through the air but also the ice spikes, fanning them out with incredible accuracy at the cloth and wood dummies. He lands on the balls of his feet then backflips when another target appears, his hands fanning out to direct a spray of ice to freeze the target solid. Targets appear from opposite directions, but Bi-Han calmly moves to brutally kick the head from one whilst plunging a conjured ice dagger into the throat of the other, then leaping forward to aim a powerful kick at the head of the frozen target. The target explodes in a spray of ice and sawdust innards and the graceful assassin lands behind the headless sagging dummy, ready for whatever is next. He never lets up, never pauses, never allows himself to be left open for even a single moment. He is magnificent and beautiful and your eyes can’t look anywhere else but at his heavily muscled frame. He wears but a thin layer of material, allowing you the gift of watching his muscles move and strain beneath the tunic. He is both graceful and yet so powerful. He lifts giant hunks of ice that likely weight more than he does, and toss them at targets with pin point precision. He forms frozen weapons and shields without even pausing to wipe the thin layer of sweat that forms on his brow and dampens the back of his tunic to emphasise his muscular frame. You take a breath and blink, suddenly aware the sun must have gone down hours ago and you’ve been watching Bi-Han training all that time. As you breathe out your breath fogs white into the night air, all the warmth from the earlier sunshine has gone. You’re wearing a similar and equally thin tunic to Bi-Han, and you’re absolutely fucking freezing. You look at the sky to try to gage the time and when you look back to the training arena, Bi-Han has disappeared. “Shouldn’t you be training rather than spending all your time staring at me?” Bi-Han’s imposingly tall form moves out from the shadows beside you, startling you. He smirks at having startled you. “You really should be training, a simple trick like that should never catch you off guard.” You nod, ashamed of being caught out so easily. “First, we’ll eat. I should celebrate my earlier victory over Sektor.” He cocks his head, waiting for your reaction, wondering if you would agree or take Sektor’s side. “Sektor was an arrogant fool, he got what was coming to him.” Although you were new to the Lin Kuei, Sektor had not impressed you like Bi-Han had. The Cryomancer laughs and flashes a wicked smile, then grasps your hand, turning you before pushing you against the stone wall behind you. “You are really quite desperate for me, aren’t you?” The night is cold enough but Bi-Han radiates a cold you hadn’t experienced before. When his breath touches your face, ice crystals form on your skin to feel like hundreds of faint kisses. You feel the chill in your lungs with every breath you take and every hair on your body stands on end. If you weren’t so utterly in love with this man you’d run, but you can’t, you don’t want to, all you want is here before you. He leans in closer and he’s such a tall and imposing man that when he bears down on you he’s all that you can see. “Yes.” Your admission delights Bi-Han and he uses your surprise at a sudden burst of laughter to grab you by the waist then heft you over his shoulder. “First we’ll eat, then we’ll fuck.”