#dailogue

[ax-y10]

"You're Shaking"

Event piece info: This is "dialogue 12", as per @igloo1292719 request, shitty description of being drunk, panic attack, denial, shaking, that's all i think.

A/n: I'm bored and on a call with friends and I want to die bc everyone is so loud. You didn't need to hear that but yw ig. sorry it's so short.

Pronouns: None (You/Yours)

Masterlist: Event Masterlist:

---

You were sat on the sofa at Wilbur's house, a few of his friends scattered around the house, and him eating something in front of the tv. Everyone was drunk, and not in their right minds.

However, the music, the chaos, the constant stimulation, the lights, and the need to do something was getting incredibly overwhelming.

As Wilbur got up to put his dish away, he thought nothing of your curled up presence on the sofa, but as he returned, did he finally notice, and immediately sobered up.

You were slightly shaking, rocking back and forth, with a puzzled expression on your face. He quickly sat down in front of you on the floor, and slowly took hold of your hands, as to no startle you, and squeezed them softly.

Looking up at him, he noticed the small tears in your eyes, and kissed each of your knuckles before sitting next to you on the sofa.

"Darling you don't have to talk but can you take deep breaths for me, okay? And focus on me." He reassured you.

"Wil? What do you mean? I'm fine." You were in denial, anyone could spot it from ages away.

"Sweeheart, You're shaking."

[spicywarl0ck]

Wip- Wednesday x3

It's not fleshed out yet (I know that's what a wip means xD) I just had a spark of inspiration this morning, but only for Dialogue, so this is just the words escaping my mind. I need to set the scene later, but I am trying to learn the hard way to write my thoughts. I have no idea where this goes yet, but it's fenhawke . Also tagging everyone who wants to do wip Wednesday x3 I don't have a writing circle atm, I'm still looking.

H: “You see, my mom never takes me to these events. She thinks I’m a party crasher.”

F: “Are you?”

H: “Maybe. But still, she can at least trust me a little bit more.”

Fenris chuckles.

F: “Fenris.” 

H: “Hawke.” They nod in acknowledgment.

H: “So, are you here alone, or…?” (gesturing, grinning) 

F: “I’m here with my Master.” (face turning into a sneer)

H: I’m sorry, your what?”

F: “My Master. (points towards Danarius who’s mingling) He sometimes takes me with him to social events. He enjoys toying with me and my marks scare some of the guests.”

H: “I’m sorry, That’s awful.”

F:” I’m used to it by now. Why mourn over things that can’t be changed”

H: “Still, it’s wrong to own another person. You never thought about using one of those events to run?”

F: “Running is pointless. It would only buy time until he finds me again and then he’d be more than happy to make an example out of me.”

His sneer deepens, and he turns to Hawke.

F: “So no.” Fenris says bitterly.

H: “But if you never try, you might never know. Who knows, there might be a charming stranger helping you along.”

F: “Like you?” Fenris gets a bit amused.

H: “Well I didn’t mean me, but… I’m obviously charming, and you don’t know me so… technically, yes.” Has that typical Hawke grin. 

F: “I do know your name though.”

H: “ Yeah, technically yes, but still…”

F: “Thank you for the offer, but no. I wouldn’t want to get anyone in trouble and I’m afraid you’re in a bit over your head.”

H: “So no sweeping you up to carry you out and hide you from your slave Master, got it.” Hawke pauses a moment. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t dance right?”

F: “You would dance with a man? A slave no less?”

H: “Why, of course. Is there a reason not to?”

[konigbabe]

the fruits (of my labor)

DAY 4 ⇢ Power Dynamic Pairing: deity!Satoru Gojo x fem!acolyte!reader Word count: 2.5k Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; deity/acolyte dynamic; deepthroat; throatfucking; riding Gojo’s knee; p-in-v; orgasm denial; creampie; dacryphilia; japanese terminology and mythology; religious imaginery; allusions to manipulation and toxicity; inaccurate historical descriptions Summary: He's a deity, yet he's faithless. The only belief he invests in is between your thighs. Satoru Gojo enjoys the fruits of your labor that you've offering him of late. [Part of NSFW Gojo Week 2023.]

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

You look upon him, his tranquil eyes already on you as he lies on his back; the corner of his lip turned upwards. Legs spread for your naked body to nestle between, your own bloody and bruised knees digging into the soft, plush yaedatami; offering a momentary relief from the pain. Lips bruised and swollen from the stretch, trying to accommodate his girth. Almost cracking at the corners.

If you were told to describe him, only one word springs to mind – Kami.

Divine.

His gestures – possessing an elegance that rivals the dance of willow branches in a gentle breeze. His voice; a melodious biwa ballad. The way blue hues of his eyes resemble the heavens melting into the boundless sea and the moon's reflection on tranquil waters, a sight that both soothes and enchants –

Satoru Gojo was considered an enigmatic legend in your eyes; among the people from your village. A young boy of mysterious lineage, his parentage shrouded in uncertainty. Some deemed him a yōkai, an unsettling otherworldly presence, while others gravitated towards yūrei, a spectral spirit.

He stands tall and slender, a figure exuding undeniable firmness in every line of his body. Hair the shade of soft grey; it reminds you of the moonlight filtering through the forest's canopy near your mother's okiya house, a teahouse adjacent to the gate of your village. Soft and fluffy; as the memory itself. His locks beckoned, inviting you to run your fingers through them, much like those stolen moments when he allowed you to do so – aware of limb-loosing consequences if any other maiden caught wind of your affiliation with Gojo.

Eyes mostly hidden underneath a woven silken cloth. Only allowed to see the day's sun when all others have been blinded; only a selected few made aware of Gojo's countenance.

("It's in the interest of my own well-being," he mumbles against the tender curve of your neck. Teeth grazing the marks there.

His cloth mask's fastened over the bridge of your nose, denying you eyesight. Hands sliding beneath the scarlet hakama, altered into a flowing skirt, enabling him to grasp your bare thighs with a grip so tight it threatens to leave lingering imprints. He's wrenching his pelvis up, engorged cock sliding against the sensitive walls of your drenched core as he moves you up and down his lap.

Robe shamelessly untied and disheveled but still hanging from his shoulders; with your arms clinging to the garment for dear life, a lifeline that anchors you as he delves so deeply that it elicits a desperate mewl from your lips, pushing aside any lingering questions.

"I cannot allow commoners to pose threats to my safety. After all, I am but a Kami." His hand raises one of yours, placing your palm flat against his. In that instant, you feel it—the non-existent space between your palms expanding, pushing your hand away from his. An invisible barrier materializing and separating your limb from his. It makes your fingers tingle.

"Who would–umph–desire to hurt you, my honored one."

A forceful push surges from behind you — or at least it feels that way — propelling your body towards Gojo's body. Lips colliding with his, all tenderness vanishing from his actions. His strong arm encircles your waist, lifting you up and creating the sensation of flying through the air. In one fluid motion, he turns you both around, deepening the kiss when his tongue plunges between your gasping lips.

"No one would dare, angel.")

– His taste. Briny yet the pearlescent droplets of his prespend sweet. With your cheeks hollowed, nails digging into the meat of his thighs, you savor the saline tang of him on your tongue. Tears teetering on the edge of your waterline, threatening to spill down your cheeks; eyelashes fluttering as he thrusts his hips upwards. Hand on the crown of your head pushing down simultaneously.

The swollen tip of his leaking cock plunges into your throat, scratching the sensitive back of it, and causing an involuntary gag reflex, throat instinctively closing.

"Just like that," Gojo groans in response to the sensation of your tight throat suffocating his cock, his arm positioned behind his head while the other moves to cup your cheek. His thumb tenderly wipes away a tear tracing a path down your face.

You look upon him, his tranquil eyes already on you as he lies on his back; the corner of his lip turned upwards. Legs spread for your naked body to nestle between, your own bloody and bruised knees digging into the soft, plush yaedatami; offering a momentary relief from the pain. Lips bruised and swollen from the stretch, trying to accommodate his girth. Almost cracking at the corners.

Leaving only his tip inside, you suck; draw him in, the tip of your tongue swirling over his slit as you let all the saliva gathered in your mouth coat his head, letting it dribble from the corners of your mouth onto his cock. Using your hand to spread the slick, covering his entire length in the mixture with your tongue concentrating on the spongy spot under his tip, slowly moving down until your lips meet your fingers wrapped around his hilt.

With bated breath, you ease your throat open wider, feeling the mushy head breach the gateway to your trachea; the friction growing more intense as he pushes past your tonsil area. Swallowing carefully, you take him in until his pelvis presses flush against your nose. You add a low hum to the mix, your fingernails lightly grazing the taut muscles of his abdomen, feeling it tighten as he twitches inside you. Something swells in your chest, expands and tightens over the feeling. Pride? More like a fervent devotion that borders on reverence.

"You little akuma–" he lets out a breath, fingers tracing the bulging curve of your throat before you pop him out with a wet sound. You repeat after – take him fully down your throat, keep him there and humming; vibrations shooting up his every nerve ending.

And the sounds he makes – the groan he lets out is drawn-out and echoing. You kiss his cock one more time before nipping at his sensitive area just below his abdomen, muscles hardened and shaped into a v. A place stained by the nips of your teeth, nicks of your nails; a teasing breeze caressing the shoreline.

Face moving upwards, your lips ache to meld with his. Yet as his breath mingles with yours, his fingers snake around your throat, tightening their grip.

Gojo holds your face intimately close to his that you can discern the white sparkles seemingly dancing within his eyes.

So close that you can distinguish myriad shades of blue within his iris, reminiscent of the Pleiades, or the very hue of the sky on a day when wisteria blooms swell.

"What are you doing," his head tilts to the side, lips tracing the corner of your lip until moving to your jaw. Soft gentle nibbles in contrast with the tight grip on your throat as you remain on all fours above his body that's still adorned in his night robe but completely untied.

A light breath escapes your yearning lips, eyes searching his face for any imperfections, any blemish in his otherwise divine visage – but finding none. Heart pounding in rhythm with the intensity of the moment, you believe that he's capable of hearing the beats. Thump, thump.

"Akami," you mumble, eyes falling to his lips when the tip of his tongue peaks out to slide over them, "kiss."

You remain motionless, almost paralyzed by the heated tension in the air, afraid to make a move or even swallow. Your cunt drenched, folds glistening with need to be filled. It pulsates, thumping steadily as if your heart dropped between your legs.

Gojo's eyes, once filled with desire, now appear almost bored, as if he's testing your resolve.

"Do you believe you are deserving of a kiss from Akami?"

Your head sways from side to side instinctively before you even fully process his question. Thighs failing to press together to relieve some of the tension as his wide frame blocks your attempts.

"I would not pose such queries without belief in their pertinence, correct?"

You nod. His face contours, creases between his brows. Bending one leg, he brings his knee to your cunt. Pressing onto the pulsating nerve on top, making you mewl and moan from finally getting some release. Your hips shamelessly grind onto his offering knee, painting it in your juices.

"Speak," he corrects you, putting his knee higher — forcing your calves to strain in order to remain on the soft cushion.

"You are—mmph—," Gojo's eyes flick down to see the way your pussy parts for his knee, circling it and disturbing your chain of thoughts, "—you are correct, Go—gojo."

"Good," his thumb presses against your lower lip, forcing your mouth to part more before he pushes the digit flat against your tongue, "then undertake a deserving act."

Satoru Gojo refuses to allow your lips contact with his. Even after what feels like hours – when he's already painted your body in his pearlescent spent, now slickening your gummy walls and sticking to his cock like honey – he's continuing to pound into you with relentless strength.

And yet he still doesn't let you reach the sweet high. Unable to tumble into the abyss of ecstasy. Your body his canvas, on which he paints strokes of desire – a merciless dance on the edge of rapture; where you can feel the waves building and receding like a capricious ocean tide.

("Patience, my angel. You're too pure to be stained. My forsaken tenshi.")

Robe finally discarded, he has you positioned to bend over the side of the yaedatami; high enough for your back to arch forcibly. The stretch across your abdomen feels like a taut bowstring. Ass up, held aloft and elbows pressed against the floor. Your hands grope desperately for purchase – yet finding nothing in this empty sleeping chamber – as Gojo looms over you, one arm bracing his weight beside your head, the other cradling your cheek as he spreads you wide for his cock to plunge insanely deep into your leaking cunt.

His thrusts are relentless, each one driving his cock impossibly deep. So deep it makes you feel as if the tip of his cock grazes your cervix, a blunt pressure inside building with each pivot of his hips. It builds steadily inside you, like a dam about to burst. And the loudness of your moans only assures the man in your body's response to him – his body, his heat. His cock. All of him.

"Just like that–," Gojo's voice's raspy, throat strained from the sounds of pleasure he's given you, "stay down—ugh–"

His words cause your back to arch more; prideful in his praise. The pleasure profound, toe-curling and spiraling through your body.

"Gojoo–," you try to meet the aggressive roll of his hips, even if the position doesn't let you move too much, "please–'m so close–please…"

You're begging, whining for him to never stop. To – for once – listen to his acolyte's pleas for release. And just as he senses your cunt quivering, throbbing with the impending orgasm, he draws a sharp thrust. Body heavy against your bottom, bottoming out before pulling out.

His response is a single word, "No" escaping his lips. Sitting back on his legs, his eyes lock onto the sight of your cunt – spread open, his own cum trickling from the fluttering, empty hole, glistening as it strains your inner thighs; pussy puffy and swollen from overstimulation. Chest puffing out, he basks in the tableau before him.

"I shall have a painter immortalize such image," he muses, leaning closer. Fingers tracing the curve of your calves, gliding over the skin of your thighs, bathing in the slickness of your inner thighs. He swipes the blend of his cum and juices from your cunt, collects them on his fingers.

In a commanding gesture, he raises you up, positioning you to sit atop your legs, mirroring his own stance. His wet fingers dance along your parted lips as you grow more desperate.

"Please–," you beg more, licking the saline sweetness off your lips, throat parched, "please–."

Gojo doesn't respond – not immediately. Instead, he turns you to face him with your back. Pulling your body onto his sitting lap and thrusting his cock into your abused cunt without any resistance. Your body strains as your back arches, head falling back to rest against his neck as his hands grasp both of your biceps, securing you to his chest as he thrusts upwards.

"You reach your release only when I deem it," his lips trace your neck, biting the sensitive flesh as he moves you up and down his lap. You can feel his cock scratching that insatiable itch deep inside you, each punishing thrust pushing you closer to the edge. The emptiness that follows only stokes the fervor building within you, a desire that only HE can satiate.

And does he take his time…

Legs pushed against your chest, his body weighs down on you – folded almost in half. Tears of exhaustion and bliss course down your cheeks, his name on your lips. Moaning, gasping, arching your back as you lose yourself to the euphoria that builds inside. His cock pushes against your clenched walls, swelling and so close to releasing and coating your walls with his sore.

But Gojo holds tight to his resolution; muscles taut under your trembling body; your fragile body. You're his to do with as he pleases, after all.

"Ahh–close, Gojo–please," you plead, feeling his cock plunge into your core, and the stretch of your cunt swallowing him to the root, "I want to–ugh–I can't–"

He cuts you off with a rather painful thrust, the head of his cock bruising your cervix, it seems. Making you gasp at the suddenness and pain. It's afterward that he slows down, rapid thrusts becoming languid rolls of his hips. He moans, gruff and low in his throat as he pushes himself deeper inside of you with each movement.

"You cannot what?" His eyes gleam even as he gives you a momentary reprieve. The thrumming pleasure from being so completely filled subsides, but not entirely leaving altogether – just enough to remind you that Gojo's presence is still there.

"I can't–," you whimper in his ear as he moves onto his elbows, straining your hamstrings until you feel as if he's gonna tear your legs apart, "I can't…"

"You cannot what?" Gojo demands, his cock stilling inside you, only to resume as he leans you forward, "tell me, my faithful one."

"No more–please," your lips search for his; to which his head fives to your clavicles, nibbling the tender and sensitive skin there, "I need the release, please," you beg with a strained voice.

His eyes flutter shut, teeth catching hold on your shoulder, harder than they should, "beg one more time. Let me hear your prayers."

He's waiting for a particular syllable and sounds; the first syllable of his name. For it to flow out of your lips.

"Please–," your voice becomes but a mere exhale, body spent; falling to his mercy. Shaking as you beg for this man to take whatever he wants. The only reason you're even able to speak is to plead for release, having nothing else to offer but yourself freely to him. A twisted, filth-covered shinsen.

In the end, Gojo eventually does take your offering, grants you your release.

Being that way for several moons.

[mistress-light]

Frey's legacy.

[secretandpurplememories]

Khud se azaadi toh sirf maut hi de sakti hai ... ya phir ishq

- Noor Nizami (FITOOR)

[lemon-wedges]

...

[myloveforfanfictonisendless]

Keep telling me even after the poll ends

I start first it is mostly-

"Above all do not lament my absence. For in my spark all I know is this not the end but merely a new beginning. Simply put another

Transformation "

-primeverse

@cyberrose2001 @them4ng0 @spreadwardiard @tfrinpin @tfp-enthusiast @techni-cal-writing

[frecht]

not my professor spelling cornstalks as cornstocks and bees as bee's

[oshaviolater]

ive been playing patho whole day and my friend just said 'uve been doing that whole day u would literally become a part of it soon' and im OBSESSED i love metafiction

[xav-photography2]

One of my fav gals from star wars legends is Bastila from Knights of the Old Republic. Gotta love her character growth throughout the series.

Also, those dailogue lines about teasing her like a tsundere in the game was gold.

[taaho]

why is bsd so gay????

all of THE skk scenes, there r SO MANY that idk what to talk ab

sskk development, THEIR NEW SCENE IN THE ANIME??? (i will never shut up ab sskk again)

FYOLAI??? NIKOLAI FUCKIGN SHOWED HIS REAL EMOTIONS FOR FYODOR N SAID STH IDK HOW TO TRANSLATE (i watched the ep in another language)

FUKUCHI'S DEATH SCENE???? I COULDNT FOCUS ON THE DAILOGUE BCS OF THAT DAMN HUG

SUEGIKU TOO????? COME ON, WDYM "I WILL PLACE JOUNO OVER JUSTICE"

DONT GET ME STARTED ON RANPOE, THEY R CANON, END. OF. STORY

what does bsd even ab????? the gays????

[lisa-russell]

Sooo cuute!

I can see why people would see Order as a Pearlina child...have you read the dailogues? lol

(yes i can post this got the A.okay!)

[itsalwaysalmostchristmas]

I think Cazador should've been a Chosen

BG3 SPOILERS AHEAD

I hear a lot of people talk about how Astarion's companion quest doesn't have anything to do with the bigger plot, which is true and I don't think it's a bad thing.

But I've also been thinking about making Cazador a greater villain to the story for a possible fanfic idea. And I thought about making him a chosen to a god. So, I had thought that Loviatar, Maiden of Pain would be the deity for him.

So, let me give an insight to what I was thinking:

The reason I thought Loviatar would fit Cazador quite well, to me, feels quite obvious: he loves to torture his spawn. He clearly finds pleasure in causing them pain. So much so he has Godey to 'punish' them when he is unable to.

I also feel it wouldn't be out of no where to have a chosen of Loviatar be part of the big plot as we meet Abdirak in the Goblin Camp in Act 1. I also feel the fact we meet him in the Goblin Camp is very important because this is where we meet the Priestess Gut, Dror Ragzlin, and Minathara. And, these three individually represent the Dead Three's chosen.

Dror Ragzlin & Kethric Thorm = Myrkul

Priestess Gut & Enver Gortash = Bane

Minathara & Orin the Red = Bhaal

You have pretty significant interactions with all three, but you also have a one with Abdirak as well. He has quite an important job in getting information out of people through torture means to try and find the grove. He even gives you Loviatar's Blessing if you let him smack you around.

Abdirak & Cazador Szarr = Loviatar

This could have also been a moment of depending if you had discovered Astarion was a vampire yet or not could have had some dailogue eluding that Abdirak knows of Astarion or outright saying something along the lines that Cazador will be pleased when he returns Astarion back to him. It would have Astarion have more enthusiasm to kill the goblin camp leaders.

Also feel for as much as we hear about Cazador, we don't really get a lot of screen time with him. I don't know maybe it was just me that felt a bit underwhelmed that we went there and just killed him (not saying that part is underwhelming but how quick it all happens is what is underwhelming).

Also the Rite of Profane Ascension could fit in with when Enver Gortash and Durge went to steal the Crown of Karsus. Like I don't know if I'm crazy or maybe I just read it in a Durgetash fic but did Gortash encourage Durge to join him in raiding Mephistopheles infernal vault by telling him that the devil possessed some of Bhaal's weapons? If that's true (although if we're thinking along the lines of me writing this fic then don't matter if it is or isn't) then he could've persuade Cazador to join them in the same manner of informing him about the Rite of Profane Ascension.

I also feel Loviatar would approve as he is literally carving the infernal writing into his spawn, he just has to mention her name or whatever and she'd probably accept it as an offering. And him being able to walk in the sun gives him more opportunity to bring pain and suffering to others.

Astarion also mentions when talking about being turned into a vampire about how painful it was, saying,

"I remember how it hurt when I turned into a vampire. My body writhed and warped while I was utterly helpless, the grip of death owned my heart as it beat its last."

The saying 'Beauty is pain' fits Cazador quite well in my mind. As I have headcanon of Cazador being obsessed with perfection and maybe that's part of the reason his main spawn are sent out to lure people back to him. He wants to be perfect and hence his spawn most also be the most perfect beings to represent him. The only way to model perfection and beauty is through pain, in his mind.

I also have this image in my head of the intro for Act 3 that'll I'll write a little snippet for you:

“Duties, duties, duties.” The flaming fist sergeant started, her voice different to the serious tone she held mere moments before. “Patrolling and saluting and following and bowing and scraping and ‘yes, sir, no sir, rip and cut your throat, sir’.” From her sleeve she pulled out a knife, with a very noticeable red stone in the handle, and pierced it through the canvas, right through where Gortash’s painted self throat was. She prowled towards the lord, her form changing for the sergeant to a changeling in red armor, Orin. “Your plan is falling apart, lordling.” She said, her hand sliding up Gortash’s arm. “Give me a reason not to cut you to ribbons.” Gortash turned to Orin, “We need to focus on reuniting the stones, or the brain will break free. These quakes are just the start.” This answer didn’t seem to appease Orin as she bore her teeth and growled. “Now, now, Orin. You must control yourself.” A nasally voice reprimanded gently from the shadow. Hiding from the sunlight, seated comfortably in one of Gortash’s cushy armchairs with his long fingers resting on his staff, also adorned with a noticeable gem. “There was no way for young Enver to know the Prism-bearers would’ve been able to kill the general.” “My prodigal blood-kin is among them.” Gortash’s eyes seemed to light up, “They live?” “Barely,” Orin huffed, dislodging her knife from the canvas. “I made mince of their ugly mind matter, and if they dare return, I will strip out their offal.” “I sure hope they do.” Cazador said, oily, as he slunk off in the shadows. “They have something of mine and intend on getting it back.” “They will be traveling to the city, there’s no doubt in my mind.” Gortash said, looking much more optimistic than the start of their conversation. “Let’s make sure we give them a Baldurian welcome.”

Problems with this idea:

It's the Dead Three, not the Dead Three plus Loviatar. She does serve Bane but still it's not quite as smooth sounding. I could do an AU where it's really the Dead Four but I hate even numbers and it just doesn't sound as good imo.

Cazador has his whole becoming Vampire Ascendant going on. It's not a direct issue really as it could work within the story but does it feel maybe it's too much?

So, what are your thoughts? Please be respectful and kind as this is just a silly idea, thank you!

[peachdues]

Number 4 for compass!

What was your favorite line of dialog?

(Dailogue? Dialouge? Idk me no spell good)

Ohhhh it hasn’t been introduced yet, but I’ll give a slight spoiler 👀

“Tallahassee.”

BUT I will give you all something more substantive as well. It’s probably this entire exchange between Sanemi and Genya in Chapter 2:

“There’s a girl, Gen.”

The boy’s head snaps up, his jaw slack enough that a dribble of his soda escapes down his chin.

Sanemi wrinkles his nose. “Close your mouth.”

“Sorry,” Genya swallows thickly and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “A girl?”

“Yeah.”

“A real one?”

Sanemi chokes on a slurp of his tea. “The fuck does that mean?”

[cartoonqtpie]

A couple of Muppets Mayhem comics with dailogue from Daria

Need to work on my speech balloons and spacing-

[sinimake]

So I was on the bus on my way home from work and since I had 1h to stare into the void I suddenly got an idea and I need to scream about it.

You know that bit in the intros where Kenshi says "Suchin wants me back?!" or something like that (almost launched myself into space ahahhah fck my Johnshi heart).

So anyways. Imagine if you please a setting where Johnshi is (of course, obviously) head over heels, deeply enamorated with each other BUT. Johnny thinks it's not reciprocated (perhaps it's his self-esteem issues? Love me some softly insecure Johnny fight me). Kenshi? What if he knows about, not only how he feels, but also about Johnny's feelings? But he doesn't do anything bc the whole thing about fighting the Yakuza? Or perhaps they both are unware bc why not. Choose your brand of angst.

And then, *that* conversation with Liu Kang happens. And perhaps Johnny is there. Or perhaps he just happens to hear something accidentally. Sad ensues bc Kenshi has told him of Suchin ("amazing woman, one of a kind") so of course now that he has almost pull free his family from the Yakuza is the best time to rekindle that love.

And perhaps they both go to Japan and meet her (maybe she is actively helping Kenshi against the Yakuza?). And yeah. She is pretty amazing and badass and clearly she and Kenshi care for each other. And Johnny gets angstier and sadder than a wet cat.

But once all it's done you get the cliché scene where Johnny says something like "you must be happy, now that your family is free you can start anew with Suchin". But surprise surprise, Kenshi finally gets what's going on (or he just pulls his head out of his ass or whatever flavour of angst you chose) and explains that while he does care about Suchin a lot, those feelings belong to the past and he has someone else holding his heart (or some poetic stuff idk).

So. Bottom of the line. Is this me screaming at the idea of seeing Johnny's insecurities being developed and let him almost drown on a swamp of self-deprecation while Kenshi is so deeply enamorated and quietly caring about him? Possibly yes. Most definitely so. Sorry it got so long 😶‍🌫️

Yoowww, a question: do you read my mind? Bc i was thinking exactly the same. We think so much alike 🤯

I was thinking back on intro dailogues of Johnny and Kenshi where NRS tried to deny the homo allegations with them mentioning Suchin and persumed Sonya. I was thinking that exact line of "Suchin wants me back?" and i was like 👀.

I really love Assumed Unrequited Feelings and i love your idea ♥️♥️ amazing angst potential ♥️ and love triangle??? Hello?? Delicious 😋