#(hanryou)

[sasorikigai]

( 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ) + ( 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 ) + ( 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐘 ) ( for any of their verses )

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 || @sonxflight || accepting

( 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ) ; one muse strides up to the other and suddenly embraces them tightly after experiencing something distressing

( 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 ) ; one muse takes the other's face ( cheeks , chin ) when trying to comfort them

( 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐘 ) ; one muse takes the other to a calm area where they feel more comfortable opening up

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Every once in a while, they tend to go to the darkest of mines to collect some charcoals - like a ravenous boa, jaws disarming and welcoming those caliginous specters feeling the roughness of their claws made of steel. They are more than capable of breaking ancient stone of their fortified hearts, piling up, building mountains of corpses beneath all these lean, excessively used muscles and scarred guts, from the adamantine bone to the marrow. Perhaps Hanzo Hasashi's own eyes have belonged to the Nether's devil, able to see from afar. Deceitful skins singing the sweets of saccharine melodies and dancing with the severing swings of fire, ignited to burn anything and everything to naught. In this life, they were born to burn bright, until the emotions they contain bubble over, collapsing in on themselves and eat them both whole. It is all-consuming to be in their skins; both of them shattered and broken countless times. But pulling out those glass shards hurt more than pretending they are not there.

They both have grabbed each other's heart and cradled it, pluck it from the precarious rot of their branches that are their ribs and hold it so tenderly, careful not to dig into its core. Peeling off each layer of flesh to reveal the beating vessel underneath, not like savage and merciless warriors who shreds and tears away the beating flesh of the enemies, only to leave with stained hands of dripping sanguine, but uncovering each layer gently like a deer who laps gently at the river mouth. As Ryou Sakai's familiar, yet nearly inaudible steps close in and Hanzo's heart collides gently with his lover's own, the world seem to go still. Enough, no more, the weary axis breathes, sick and exhausted with endless spinning, which tends to overseethes and quiets for a spell.

Demoted and ossified, or fortified, Hanzo cannot quite figure it out, if stillness be a strength. One moment stands and views itself at length, but a tenebrous shadow in his heart and soul seem to multiply and embrace along with Ryou, who remains pensively silent. "I always question myself whether which ecstasy to embrace; the ecstasy of hope that will manifest my soul to fly unimpeded into the sky like warmth from the hearth or the ecstasy of fate, simply to accept the freedom the plunge from the sky offers in the swirling flames and blood far below. as unfathomable despair and grief deepens to no end," the warm cradle of his hand cups around his beloved's cheek; as Hanzo still experiences his own zeniths and nadirs of his despair and grief, as sometimes he'd feel something unholy bursting from beneath his ribcage and crawls at the seams of his flesh, anguish feeding on his consciousness. Speaking a manifesto of his demon's hatred and his absolution; a vindictive specter condemned to hate the world with eyes tutored to vengeance.

Every inhalation he takes in is made with care, as if Hanzo might guide Ryou along with the beats of his heart, holding the same, evermore steady and strong rhythm. Amidst the Shirai Ryu's vast expanse full of interweaved people, they stand; both captive souls in a shifting world of unknown and unpredictability, as leaves rustle, waters whisper, but failing to silence this dissonant jail in both of their minds. As transcendent hues paint the sky above, a quiet surge of whirling flame transport them both to a shadowed trove of their shared personal quarter. Despite the despair manifesting as a relentless loop and a haunting refrain, Hanzo hopes that his unnerving presence will end this unending bane, at least for temporarily. "I sincerely hope the discomfort of haunting disturbance fades, as I remain consistent warmth throughout such vacant hollowness and depression. I will always meet you with an everloving warmth and understanding against this ancient disquietude." ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ seeking reconciliation with his own humanity (iii) #(hanryou) #sonxflight

[sonxflight]

6, 9, 15 for the ship meme please!

✧ Shipping Questions For The Mun ║ @sasorikigai ✧

6. Do you have any ship bias with your muse?

Not really, but there's nonetheless certain types he's attracted to ( e.g. smart chaotic dumbasses lol ). When it comes to mun's side of things, it's always nice to have a partner who's as enthusiastic about the ship as you are and throws ship related material at you as much as you do at them.

9. What do you think about crossover ships? Would you play any?

I think I don't even need to actually address this, the answer is pretty obvious if one will look through my blog lmao aka crossover ships are the best f i t e m e

15. What’s your OTP when it comes to your muse?

Hanryou/Heliac Flames obvs (along with all of our other ships) and a number of currently inactive OTPs I nonetheless miss dearly.

#✧ 𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕚𝕡𝕝𝕖 ✧ ║ ooc #sasorikigai #answer

[sonxflight-a2]

❂ (any verse!)

✧ Send a ❂ to get a moodboard for our muses ║ @sasorikigai ✧

#✧ 𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕚𝕡𝕝𝕖 ✧ ║ ooc #sasorikigai #answer #✧ 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕝𝕒𝕣 𝕤𝕖𝕒 ✧ ║ hanzo #✧ 𝕚𝕥 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕞𝕤… 𝕤𝕠… 𝕗𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕣… ✧ ║ aesthetic #✧ 𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕖𝕤 ✧ ║ verse #{{ don't recall making one for MK 2k21 Hanryou so here u go }}

[swordsxandxshadows]

☯ @kathexismania​ like for a starter ☯

There was a solemn mood that hung in the air around the man as the young woman approached, the swirl of emotions resonating with Ashi on a personal level. It was something they shared with one another, the strong emotions of sorrow, grief, and rage that often came from the depth of their beings and often took hold at the worst moments. Voices unable to be silenced in the maelstrom of such melancholy moods, unable to be ignored or fought with much resistance when they did sink their claws into them. No one would’ve guessed such moods would be held in the depths of such a young woman, barely out of the prime and coming into adolescence, but having suffered great trauma at such an early age that had left various lacerations on her soul. Whether those would ever truly heal was only something time would tell and reveal as it went.

A soft hand reached out, only a mere moment of hesitation that could be missed with a blink, before it came to rest on the broad shoulders of her surrogate father figure. Sympathy clear as it was painted across her features as she took a seat next to the other. Letting the silence hang between them for a moment, knowing that there was no need for words really when her actions were just as clear. Reaching out with her own being to try and comfort him, bring some semblance of peace and serenity to him even if just for a moment or two. Help stave off those feelings as they bubbled and brewed, painting the man’s being once more.

It honestly hurt her to see him in such a state, knowing that the presence of such emotions would never truly vanish from him. Not that Hanzo would ever let them truly vanish, the man was in harmony with his emotions, both positive and negative. Both shaping who he was and finding strength in even his flaws, not shying away or hiding them like most. It was an admirable trait and one that Ashi was picking up and learning slowly from him, absorbing that lesson of being at peace with oneself even when the maelstrom hit. Though, it would take time for her to truly grasp the concept and make it part of her. She’d be wise beyond her years though with his and other lessons that had been transcribed to her by a certain Samurai, another who too was a surrogate father figure to her.

Moments in silenced passed, almost seeming like an eternity was going by but at the same time that the moment had been paused, everything still around them. A gentle squeeze came as a small but soft smile soon graced Ashi’s face, reaching with warmth to the other.

“You definitely know how to pick a place to brood.”

Soft joke attempted to lighten the mood that was surrounding them, wanting to brighten Hanzo’s feelings up. That trait was something she inherited from her biological father, the joking and playful banter. Even if it was just a resent discovery and one that had only blossomed once she started to change, having never thought she had it in her to jest and joke. Though, she supposed it was more playful sarcasm and sass than anything truly comedic and silly.

#IC {Ashi} #sasorikigai #A Time of Kombat...{Verse} #Another Time of Kombat...{Verse} #RP Menu {Threads} #Fierce Inferno of Hellfire {Hanzo Hasashi/Scorpion | sasorikigai} #Solemn Moments {RP} #Have this word vomit <XD #I kind of kept it a little vague so can be for either verse #And also be included or not with the OT3 when that starts to happen or even just either Hanryou or Scorched Souls #Or even Subcorp too XD #Hope ya like Kath <'3 #Hanzo just up and like 'This my dottir' XD

[yetremains]

Miscellaneous mun facts! tag nine people you want to get to know better. ( I aint tagging 9 i already know many very well )

relationship status : Single AF and vibing. Unless you count married to writing and food. Otherwise I’m open.

favorite color : I love darker colors. It’s hard to choose just one favorite.

lipstick or chapstick : Chapstick usually, I don’t have a lot of options for lipsticks where I live. But I got a really nice chapstick made with honey.

last song i listened to :  Skillet - "Not Gonna Die"

last movie/show i watched :  Syfy Alice, Samurai Jack Marathon, Mad Max Fury Road, Mortal Kombat Scorpions Revenge.

top three tv shows : Just three? Aw heck. Samurai Jack, Gargoyles or Batman The Animated Series on the same level, and HOUSE

top three characters :  Jack, Alice Liddell, Hanzo Hasashi. Absolutely influenced by my current partners.

link top three ships : You want me to pick three? of all the ships I’ve ever had? I can’t fam there’s too many good ones. Can I choose others ships such as Hanryou?

books i’m currently reading :  Several encyclopedia’s for research, Mythology textbooks, and some Lewis Carroll Through The Looking Glass,

Tagged by:  @kathexismania Tagging:  @bluescarfvivi @nerv0usm3chanic @punsandfuturekingsmen @gattaimuses @sir-intxgra

#about the mun #mun details #(( this wasnt easy to fill out or choose my favorites. ))

[sasorikigai]

nose nudges / bumps + shoulder kiss ( any of their verses plz )

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 || @sonxflight || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || As the day draws to a close and the world settles down to rest, Grandmaster Hasashi's mind begins to wander through the memories of the day. Thoughts like wisps of smoke drifting through the chambers of the mind, dancing and swirling in a rhythm that only the heart can understand. How the vivid strings mimic the reflection of the crackling bonfire offering them cradling warmth against the rarity of the Shirai Ryu frigidity, as images flash like flickering flames before them as the mind casts back through time, recalling moments both bright and dark, moments of abundant, resplendent joy and moments of torturous, excruciating pain. And yet, amidst the chaos and confusion of his subconscious, there is an unperturbable stillness that pervades.

The wages of his past sin may brought the death of Hanzo Hasashi, as countless innocent people died - they must suffer as he too, had suffered - before he conceded that Scorpion was not entirely irredeemable. Beneath what seemed like the void of hopelessness, did he hear whispers of truth he sought; the language of stars, to the soul which the Shirai Ryu speak. In the silent abyss where darkness reigned, a cosmic symphony, his heart sustained scintillating glimmer of justice and righteousness. Now, Grandmaster Hasashi lays himself on the tapestry of fate, woven with cosmic thread, where the cycle of revivified life, in celestial rhythm, is led. The resurrected life filled with the dance of atoms, in harmony and discord, as a ballet of forces of light and darkness clash, as the universe moves forward.

Ryou Sakai's breath, however ephemeral and minute it may be against the defined swell of his cheek, shatters the tenebrous veil of time which Hanzo Hasashi remains stuck in. How it unveils the truth, in the eternal chime of things, the vast expense where the questions arise even as wisdom he surmises. In this ocean of existence, Hanzo Hasashi drifts and explores, seeking the shore of knowledge, as the unknown he implores along with his beloved friend, lover, husband, the most entrusted and sagacious being who could read him even in this absolute moment of stillness and silence. How his drifting thoughts conglomerate, sparkling like Ryou's stunning eyes and pleasant as his soft touch intermingles with Hanzo's own.

"You are my vessel of happiness, my vessel of life, my vessel of kind words, my vessel of love," how Hanzo finds himself sipping in halcyon content, as the golden warmth continues to shine and caress him with a unique glow, along with the feeling that he gets when he looks into his beloved's eyes; of splendid, unperturbable peace and eternal highs. "To preserve and keep such had been strenuous for both of us, but we never let ourselves grow feeble and weak, lowly, lonesome, and meek. For we speak our love in a million languages and with the confidence of all who have, or I would have never dared to attempt to utter it."

For Hanzo Hasashi has been unleashed, into the bright gleam of celestial flame that cleanses and sanctifies hellfire. How it glows effervescently and purposefully in the dark amber of his eyes as his silence ascends with all promise that Ryou Sakai deserves. ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ hellfire fibrillating beneath his skin (iv) #✗ epitome of sunlight (ryou sakai || sonxflight) #(hanryou) #(heliac flames) #sonx

[sasorikigai]

"just for the record... i love you." ( for any of their modern(-ish) verses, just picture Ryou uttering that drowsily while falling asleep upon Hanzo's tiddies sdfghjk )

MISCELLANEOUS SENTENCE PROMPTS || @sonxflight || accepting

💥 || It seemingly has been such a long time since Hanzo has lain below his beloved, nestled under the glow of the afternoon sun drenched in the buttery rays and golden hues; a dreamy, honey-like reality that stuns and their name drifting through the sunset of his mind. It is seldom they scavenge for each other's loneliness, to be filled and satiated when found. Thus their days may never be in starvation lest they continue to always suffer or prosper from the consequences - or lack thereof - of their actions. Whatever they may be; whether they be the forgotten ones, the buried ones, the dead ones, the unintentional ones even to the white miniscule meaninglessness in their subconscious or meaningful ones.

All the unaccountable aches and all these stripes of grief may continue to etch their personal and professional lives, but how beneficial it is now to be the master of each melancholic rank, to move beyond them in the pyre of agglomerating memory and aspiration. There may still be embers of nefarious wonderings still floating in the surface of their minds, but they now waft heavenward in such ethereal, delusional appearing. And in this precise moment where melancholic grief of the past and mellifluous expectations of the present coalesce, his bones ache, because they yearn to knit with Ryou's.

Hanzo Hasashi's muscles long to hold his beloved, and his soul burns; aflame with love that will forever adore, shining as the morning dew refusing to be parched dry. And he thinks, before they began sharing their bodies, it was being soulmates, their intricate friendship which marked his life even more deeply than this newfound love; for love risks degenerating into obsession and fixation, plunging him into the past. Rather, this friendship has become never anything, but sharing.

"I have come to a realization that no matter where I am, whether in a vast room of my subconscious full of thought, or in this endless universe of stars and mountains, I will always end in the center of my world." Unbidden revelation exudes through the immeasurable depth of his eyes; Hanzo Hasashi may deny his heart to all others, but his devotion towards his love and friendship towards their union is unwavering and unshakable in this sweet, affectionate utter. For Ryou Sakai alone can hold his heart in the present, no other claiming such a part - in an exception of Harumi Hasashi - for he is his dearest, his heart's sole and truest.

This companionship, partnership, a journey of love, their bond is pure as unadulterated waters of his precious love absent of grief and trauma. Even without his vocalized words, Hanzo Hasashi's love extends through the oozing saturation of his mellow tenderness; until the ends of their time, his love transcending beyond their mortality. 💥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ ugly syllables of conjured vindictive crimson (modern au) #✗ epitome of sunlight (ryou sakai || sonxflight) #(hanryou) #sonxflight

[sasorikigai]

“ somehow, without me even realizing it, you became so, so important… the most important part of my life. “ ( for modern fire hubby I miss these two o o f )

a collection of my own writings … sentence starters || @sonxflight || accepting

💥 || Being self-aware is painful; knowing that the person he is looking at is only the construct he's built together, which breaks the unspeakable interstice which they happen to share. In this half-light of little hours before dawn, fields of light pollution outside remain caught refracted in veils of particulates, manifesting themselves as shadows putting on a play; so discernible once, yet entirely vanished now as the light went on and off again. No longer, the continuing abyss of past trauma becomes prehensile voids, unfurling as uncertain strings of proprioception swimming ceilings of his waking depression as lashing demons would tear chunks from his effervescent subconscious.

Hanzo Hasashi's days of clarity used to be time lapse pieces of art; its glory short-lived, prompting passionate pursuits for fleeting fabrics of his unconscious left him longing, stricken with woe in the moments of rediscovery. Desperation surfacing, walking weary with wonder as he would wander endlessly, wanting wisdom and wakefulness to uncover coherence towards his shattered kintsugi life. Peace and tranquility was a high need which eluded him for the longest time, and yet, Hanzo finds himself observing, anticipating... as familiar shiver claims his spine - all for a different reason - as he recalls sweeping the wet locks of his beloved aside to press his lips to Ryou's nape and call him his.

His eyes now fixate upon his beloved, as every twin-flame of their charged, electric gaze spark. For Ryou Sakai is sexy in ways that he could never fathom; such a deep soul, capable of touching the deepest part of Hanzo Hasashi in the most intimate ways. Ryou would caress his heart and feel around the daunting darkness and morose melancholy to see what he could spark to life, always bringing life where his fingertips tread... Every touch the most intimate encounter, regardless of physical or non-physical. And beneath the undulating burn that bellows beneath his strengthened chandelier heart; all the sparkle, the shine, the fine rivers of red that would pulsate incessantly of their eternal love would cause his heart and the depths of his eyes to dance with abandon. The prisms, the crystal, as the tenebrosity of the night would bring forth the chain of shining gold.

"I have finally come to a realization that the darkness is all we need to appreciate the bright blinding light... After all, too much of darkness or too much of the bright light will cause the eyes to turn 'blind'" While they could never be completely liberated from the original punishment of life which is their grief, their love became the miraculous delay of their completion, prolonging the wicked act by letting two become one. Hanzo knows, in this particular moment of coalescence, love has brought dawn as the warmth of the sun saturates upon his naked flesh and fills the missing fullness of his rare smile.

"Despite my heart still able to feel overwhelming nostalgia about all the places I wasn't able to explore, all the people I wasn't able to encounter, all the melodies of life I will never hear, still, there is a profound longing for something nonexistent and an intense desire to get lost in the spell of this inexplicable feeling." 💥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ ugly syllables of conjured vindictive crimson (modern au) #✗ epitome of sunlight (ryou sakai || sonxflight) #(hanryou) #sonxflight

[sasorikigai]

❝  so much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again.  ❞ ( Assassin!Ryou preparing to fullfill the contract like)

misc poetry sentence starters || @sonxflight || accepting 

💥 || Everything Hanzo Hasashi does right now could potentially ripple outward and affect not only Ryou Sakai, but of their shared world and beyond. His posture can shine his heart or transmit anxiety, which became long naught after perpetual wrath and vengeance settled into his bones. His breath can radiate intense, vigorous love or muddy the room in brooding melancholy. His glance can awaken joy, or ominous frigidness of death’s cruelty. Perhaps their hearts were not connected through harmony alone; they are, instead, linked deeply through their wounds. Pain linked to pain, fragility to fragility. For their mercilessness had not originated without a ravaging cry of grief. There must be no forgiveness without bloodshed, no acceptance without a passage through acute loss, and no silence without dismantling themselves asunder in an all-consuming surge of depression and despair. 

Perhaps in a way dawn turns to dusk, everything that they are were meant to dissolve into a dark abyss; for they are everything and nothing at all once. Hanzo knows, he could be an unyielding, strong current and then he still could be a dried up creek that was once a babbling brook. His existence was smashed into a million tiny pieces while he pretended to exist as a whole heart rather than the tiny pieces shattered all around. In the cold empty pressurized air of the firearm, they call to violence. 

“Isn’t this how we become undone? Leading us to calamities beyond our most horrible nightmares, but also euphoria that only gods have tasted? What we wouldn’t do for this power, to right the past wrongs, to rekindle old flames or to escape the nightmares of our own creation. Nothing can be undone, so we must move forward and find our continued path towards tomorrow by being caught in this ouroboros.” It is a soliloquy meant to be heard only by his beloved; for Ryou has seen what Hanzo has seen, and tasted the bitter, humiliating saltiness of his tears. As he continues to sink into the perilousness and obscurity of his profession’s attire and accoutrements, the erupting blaze of his eyes seem to paint the viscerality of what is about to enfold. Beneath their entropy of time and history, they will continue to trudge and wade through the labyrinth of paths untraveled. 

And then he closes his eyes, and everything starts to fade to a shaded of black, bended with the lingering sun’s orange light penetrating his eyelids; Light in his life still exists, and so does Hanzo Hasashi. He can still hope for that precise moment when he opens his eyes, he can truly enjoy the light. But for now, he will watch it and bask beneath the diminishing luminescence behind his closed eyes. “Were we even born pure, for we endured so much in the company of cruelty and evil? For us to grow pure, I would gladly become the evil, by vanquishing every evil that threatens our world.” 

So Hanzo will continue to brush with death like a lover and in turn, deliver death to the others. For she smiles coyly at him; smoky eyes turned down at him with hunger and pity. Sometimes, vertigo consumes his senses, for she beckons him to stay. The sickened temptation may be there, for her presence makes dread tie into knots in his chest. So he retaliates and reciprocates such promise of looming oblivion as freedom from reality’s ennui and damnation, akin to freeing of his own soul from entangled subconscious. Death will continue to be his muse and his keeper in void, and he will return to her ad infinitum through his own will or otherwise. 💥 ||

Death is simultaneously his and his victim’s reward. 

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ ugly syllables of conjured vindictive crimson (modern au) #✗ there is a bullet for everyone (assassin/hitman verse) #✗ epitome of sunlight (ryou sakai || sonxflight) #(hanryou) #sonxflight

[sasorikigai]

"I haven’t kissed you yet, today..." Utterly somnolent voice, light of dawning sun reaches towards his hand, laying upon steadily rising chest as its fingers are yet to be slow in their caress, woken up through the sense of extraneous motions. Summer mornings are quick to arrive, it's nonetheless easier for his body to awake during these elongated days... Drowsy visage burying itself into the warmth and scent of other neck, he takes time to lazily pepper its skin in tender pecks before his lips will be adorned with a warmful smile, breathing out without any effort while dark hazel eyes still remain sheathed. "Here we go..."

Random Inbox Shenanigans || @sonxflight || always accepting!

💥 || The rarity of smile that had once abandoned his lips return, pulverizing the melancholy that molded his eyebags, as he would tear himself through the bloodcurdling scream that hid in his silence and quietness. The immortal assassin wished to rest his knife-edge vigilance and hyper-focus, breaking the virtue of an unending forgiveness which Hanzo Hasashi knew he could never achieve in his infinite lifetime. How could he ever be bloodless without history, outside of the frame of the chopping block, given tomorrow on a silver platter wrapped up in golden butcher’s twine. How Hanzo wants to be free of consequences, liberated from his damned life’s hungers; something besides being a transcendental, yet cursed being who lives with barren walls and desolate halls, amidst the echoes of destruction and flesh and sinew tearing asunder as repeated onslaught of terror and carnage continues to plague him. 

Hanzo Hasashi may be ever tall with broad shoulders and large hands, relatively smooth tan skin with crinkles in the corner of his eyes. He may be warm and inviting, but in the best means, extremely challenging and austere to the world beyond the peripheral of his dearly beloved. With short cropped hair and a deep inviting gaze, a clean shaven face and kissable lips. Every touch may have a memory, but it’s their coalesced skin which becomes the only actual boundary between his body and the world, between a body and any other body, but Ryou Sakai’s own had been mingled and mangled along with his very own, as the throbbing tides of his exsanguinating blood within him had surged in rapid, vehement resistance and defiance as the darkness once consumed him was replaced back with a beautiful ball of light so bright that it sent shivers down his spine. Such welcomed sensation of irreversible death may creep and crawl, but it would always bring an excruciating hurt beyond description, as ghost tendrils would climb his bones in pinpricks and cudgel blows, whispers and drowning waves nearly suffocating and sweeping him asunder beneath the smiling surface. 

He hides nothing; displays every emotion, stacked layers of joy and sorrow on his sleeves, as if Ryou Sakai only wields the key to open up his chest for inspection. Only the brightest, unbidden colors would show up against his beloved. For Hanzo Hasashi wants no space between them. For their orbits would always collide through their shared galaxies, for the intense passion and devotion of their comets trail everburning fire to shelter them both and shatter the frozen cores of evil and enmity whenever they threaten to collide towards them. 

“The sense of apotheosis becomes us; we were both blessed and cursed to share eternity with countless kisses and fathomless depths of our love, 最愛の人,” deep resonance of his voice carries itself with such verve and purpose, as his warmth caresses the crown of his beloved’s head. The world remains simply and gloriously alive, for the cosmos of their entangled manifestation dances and sways, and that is simply all Hanzo Hasashi would ever want. He would only exemplify how Ryou Sakai could be loved - that is, unconditionally, wholly, without question - with a body that was made to map every constellation on his body, hands that are meant to trace his lines and commit art to them. Hanzo’s lips are made to be slanted against Ryou’s, against his skin, hot, heavy, and wanton. For no words will suffice the aroma and warmth of his being. “私の光、私の命、あなたは私が吸う空気そのものです. (My light, my life, you are the very air I breathe.)” 💥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ ugly syllables of conjured vindictive crimson (modern au) #✗ undaunted intensity of solar flare (old guard au) #✗ epitome of sunlight (ryou sakai || sonxflight) #(hanryou) #(heliac flames) #sonxflight

[sasorikigai]

Mapping out your lover's features while they sleep in your arm, smoothing your thumbs down their cheeks, throat, collarbones, chin and nose. + Protecting your lover's sleep as they doze, making sure nobody bothers them as they entrusted their peace to you. ( Assassins AU, in honor of the recent trailer :^) )

Meaningful Gestures Prompts || @sonxflight || accepting

12. Mapping out your lover's features while they sleep in your arm, smoothing your thumbs down their cheeks, throat, collarbones, chin and nose.

24. Protecting your lover's sleep as they doze on your lap, making sure nobody bothers them as they entrusted their peace to you. 

💥 || His perpetual grief and sorrow is born from the silence of deepening midnights, with a primordial motif of his heavy scarring in his chest. Beneath the somber austerity of the renowned assassin with a tenebrously dark and intense gaze with an equally vehement feature of a man who still oozes melancholic skies of his soul and miserable dreams of the past... as vicious cycle of his subconscious turning turmoil inside him, creaking on steadily, as he remains caked with ferrous rust of his scars, both new and recently acquired. How Hanzo Hasashi’s heart beats so obsessively, incessantly, with maddening anger, beyond to the point of suffocation under how strong it thumps. He fears his aorta would spiral out, like tentacles into abysmal nothing. In his telltale dissociative episode where he feels like he’s unfurling and unraveling to naught, the only tangible thing he could rely on is that of his beloved; Ryou Sakai’s solid, strong form encased in the tenacious stronghold of his chiseled arm. 

For far too long, Hanzo Hasashi had denied himself of love, or better, giving all of his loyalty to someone. Love was what he unconsciously sought, but he had always thought that it is loyalty in which survives through the trials and tribulations. For loyalty is invaluable, and he thinks it’s stronger than love. He aspires for power, so it must be loyalty he hunts for in his precarious profession, while he could very much become the vulnerable prey. Except, the strongest loyalty for him is his love, which is unconditional, but demanding and rarely given. But Ryou Sakai, with his unchanging righteousness and justice, had long managed to carve his name into Hanzo’s soul, and imprinted his presence even in his absence. 

In the cold-hearted and vicious tempest of Hanzo Hasashi’s wrath, the riotous waters of violence had long been settled into an unperturbable ocean, as the troubled waves no longer crest with creatures lurking in their depths. How rare tranquil peace sails like the dark veil of a quieted city, despite the shattered remnants of an intense battle continue to expose them, thus making them vulnerable to additional assaults. Fear may wildly bloom, craning for the hardened sky of Hanzo’s conscious, spilling over the walls of his sinking exhaustion, spilling judgment on himself. With a recently fully loaded rifle, glock, and his heirloom katana all arranged near him, with a bloodstained firearm glued to his free arm, Hanzo closes his eyes, and lets this image of a swarm of sweaty, deranged assassins closing in on them both, with stares that pound his brain, as flurries of stretching images stain the once-sacred apartment they used to share. 

With his gaze as pure bottled sunshine, Hanzo’s warm, evermore amber eyes trace the familiar feature of his beloved. As if Ryou Sakai is a mosaic who is incomplete without his mending caress, as the mellow contour of his long fingers map the coordinates as they sail with such intimacy and purpose. How he remains filled with desire and ecstasy, as the craved delicateness pushes back Ryou’s loose strands of hair, obstructing his view. Soon, the pads of his fingers would mold, as if he is Pygmalion putting finish touches of Galatea’s sculpted form. They are natural, like they were always mean to be, and perhaps, even as he satiates his wanton want, he would weave this reflection of them in this shattered, annihilated world. For Hanzo Hasashi’s power manifests as he comes into a recreated and revivified being, despite having lived the last act of a dying life, through his catalytic development as the vigilante of night.  💥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ there is a bullet for everyone (assassin/hitman verse) #✗ epitome of sunlight (ryou sakai || sonxflight) #(hanryou) #(please PLEASE let them be allies) #(at least don't let Sanada's char die in like 5 min) #(I can't. with their exquisite chemistry and their dominating screen presence) #(I want 47 ronin all over again and MUCH BETTER) #sonxflight

[sasorikigai]

❝ i’m happier when you’re here - you’ve become my joy. any time spent with you is time i treasure. every second…❞ ( modern Ryou appreciating the reassure from his fire hubby like )

AFFECTIONATE  AND  AFFIRMING  PROMPTS  || @sonxflight || accepting

💥 || Until Hanzo heals the wounds of his past, he will continue to bleed; he may be able to bandage the bleeding with food, with alcohol, with onslaught of guilt and remorse plunging him into deep melancholia and depression, with work, with cigarettes and sex, but eventually, it will all ooze through and permanently stain his life. Seasons have come and wrapped Commander Hasashi up in that proverbial merciless wind. Already he is used to molting the familiar warmth, those days spent idly on sizzling concrete under the orange slice sun, which floated away, downy, from his memory as he failed to find the strength to open the wounds, stick his hands inside, pull out the putrescent core of the pain that had been holding him in his past.

How could he ever make peace with the memories when the deepest guilt and fear still courses through him? Sometimes electric, forcing his broad muscles to twitch and his mouth to go dry. His senses overly amplified, hypervigilance extraordinary, as if he was born to respond to the crisis by giving him insomnia and restlessness. 

Every day, he would conjure a brand new tragedy, every night, a woesome rhapsody. Hanzo Hasashi may live the equilibrium of privileged life and pained existence of a trauma survivor, but how his love with Ryou Sakai transmuted them into beauty. Even in his worst nadir, he would simply find incomparable solace in his beloved’s presence. In a time that has been turbulent and unstable, he would find meaning during uncertainty, and somehow find direction, to drown out the agony and despair. He knows he won’t ever have to type “I’m fine,” with shaky fingertips and bloodshot eyes, nor lose himself beneath the traumatic melody’s echo chamber, haunting him, rendering him retain a qualification of a ghost; a hollowed shell version of himself, as he had forgotten himself. 

No longer occupied with a storm within him so great that it makes a hurricane seem simple and nonchalant, Ryou Sakai’s embraced form adhered to Hanzo’s front calms that storm and mellows the tornados inside of him. How his beloved replaces them with tender breeze, night sky, stars, and the warmth of the eternal sun even with its absence. How his heart surrenders everything to this specific moment; not only in literal physical nakedness, but the vulnerable psyche speaking the most candor honesty, without judging and holding back. 

“The love you have in you, and the love you have continued to pour into me have vigorously shaken my ruined world; it healed my wounds and saved my body and soul,” and I am, tremendously, still in need of it. The mellowed warmth of his chestnut eyes seem to speak fluidly in silence, as Hanzo raptures himself in this coalescence. “The comfort of knowing that I always have someone in my corner; not only to see me, but truly penetrate and linger beneath my skin and speak to the world around me, even when I can’t drives me sane and secure. Even when I drown in my darkness, as you in your lightness. Sometimes, just knowing someone is there and listening is enough.” 

The resonant timbre of Hanzo’s voice seem to translate desperation, this kind of longing, this kind of wanton desire; painful, sinful, desperate. Every time Ryou brushes against him, every time he touches Hanzo’s skin, his chest starts to tighten, like it might explode at any second. Then all he can do is to stare at Ryou’s face and try to keep breathing all the while feeling as if he may slowly, yet steadily drown as he wields his beloved as if Ryou Sakai is the beauty, held in the eye of the beholder. His heart surrendering everything to the moment, as the sacred revelation reciprocates, as a resplendent, affectionate smile etches his lips. 💥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ ugly syllables of conjured vindictive crimson (modern au) #✗ epitome of sunlight (ryou sakai || sonxflight) #(hanryou) #sonxflight

[sasorikigai]

holding his partner's hand/arm so they'll keep holding him. maybe his partner plays with his hair. maybe there's shoulder kisses + his head is on his partner's stomach and his arms around his partner. his partner massaging his head and giving him kisses while he's slowly falling asleep ( basically them at early mornings, any verse )

physical affection male characters deserve more of || @sonxflight || accepting

holding his partner's hand/arm so they'll keep holding him. maybe his partner plays with his hair. maybe there's shoulder kisses

his head is on his partner's stomach and his arms around his partner. his partner massaging his head and giving him kisses while he's slowly falling asleep

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || There still remains a stubborn thread that had come between Hanzo Hasashi’s heart and soul; tugging, tugging at the abused fibers - so hard, that it would bring an excruciatingly acute pain. He finds himself tenaciously fighting the urge to tear his heart as if it was a piece of old parchment. If it was a bottle, he would break it. If it was a wall, he would tear it down, but such proverbial, overzealous passion it still wields oozes eternal resolve and indomitable strength as it conflagrates itself in an fulminating inferno. The once-physical manifestation of Hanzo Hasashi had become nothing inside him, even without blood and organs and bones, as a hollow vessel without the magnanimity of his warm heart and soul. Amongst the carnage, his macerated flesh and bones refused to sit stagnant along the warpath as his affliction and torment became the mental pollution that would birth Scorpion in the Netherrealm.

No longer, Hanzo drowns in the sound of his thunderstorm heart in an ocean of deepest exhaustion and aggravated emotions, as the symphonic repetition of his beloved’s heart pulls him in and grounds him. Air continues to hang in humid wonderment, as the split-open sun had began its descent beneath the crackle of the Shirai Ryu compounds. The effulgent radiance chasing after birds, longing to fly, as once-thick somber silence of the tenebrous night no longer brings about a florid bloom. Grandmaster Hasashi no longer dances freely to his doom; for love once thought would be absent in his life softly touches his heart with the weight of the stars, for Hanzo refuses to fight and resist this feeling anymore. He wishes this whole universe to be theirs for the taking, for their unification to last forever. 

Ryou Sakai’s featherlight, yet gravitating fingertips caressing his skin consumes and controls Hanzo Hasashi from within. Butterfly kisses and sensual bliss overriding darkness and what used to be this blinded sight and blinded mind, riddled with intoxicating melancholia to incapacitate him at night. How they scratch and cause mindful tears to swell up and down the walls of his austere, somber expression tells a tale of old and lustful delight in time, yearning to grab his beloved in the night. How the glowing starlight of his dark amber eyes reflect many far-off galaxies, bright eyes of heaven as the glory of unperturbed relaxation and tranquility settle once again atop his exquisite muscles and sinew. The settled petals gather and conglomerate along with his heated warmth, creating a heavenly mess, perhaps a parade of contradiction. 

How his long, desolate winter masquerading as spring has completely melted, for Ryou Sakai bestows a great thawing. Perhaps his beloved is a saint of undeserved forgiveness, of longing and of anguish. Graceful, long digits float in the thick strands of his beloved’s slouched head, as ever-effulgent fire paints the back of his eyelids and makes its way across his face in the form of a genuine smile. The exuberance of such inextinguishable fire in the depth of his heart will chase and conquer despairing darkness alight, for once languid, defenseless, and utterly lost soul of Hanzo Hasashi had been obliterated, to be rebirthed to become a nurturing, celebratory lantern full of warmth and compassion.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ seeking reconciliation with his own humanity (iii) #✗ epitome of sunlight (ryou sakai || sonxflight) #(hanryou) #(heliac flames) #(rusty af but take this) #sonxflight

[sasorikigai]

🧳+✨ ( Hitman AU tho :v )

☾Moonlight Aesthetic Starters☽ || @sonxflight || accepting

(🧳) My muse is getting ready for work but your muse stops mine.

⋆To reverse, send ‘+✨’

💥 || Some people will destroy him unintentionally; when his past love became naught, and he sees his beloved fracture, he understands the telltale flinch of his heart and lungs. Eyes shut, the inevitable end becoming less like a closed book, but more like a slippery glass that falls from a slick hand and shattering in a marble sink. Hanzo Hasashi finds himself climbing out of earth in this familiar realm between unconscious and wakefulness; his forearms tattooed with ferrous crimson, in once-clutched hands unfurling, revealing emptying of his forgiveness. Still drowned in the violence of salt in wounds, in this soft lull of tides where the winds of the morning meet the darkening shore of his heart, lest the resplendent radiance thaws him into light. 

Perhaps hope is the light at the end of the tunnel, but sometimes too much hope becomes a dangerous thing; sometimes it’s the thing with feathers, and sometimes it’s the thing with claws. What is love, if not an intertwining of blood? Whether it be the inevitable exsanguination leading towards irreversible death, or a surging torrents of sanguine, fibrillating his heart and his entirety as the clarity of catastrophe - not the actual catastrophe - manifests upon the raw viscerality of his emotions and how he carries himself. Despite him and his beloved sharing the same space and universe, Hanzo Hasashi finds himself carrying his loneliness so close to him, that sometimes he cannot even breathe, with a bitter taste of yearning always on his lips, a thread of longing running through his ribs, exacerbating the sensation with each gentle exhale. 

It seems that he cannot ever reach for Ryou Sakai, so he must remain aching and reminisce - how it once felt to be wrapped in an embrace, lest he had offered the stronghold of his chiseled arms towards Harumi, whom he could not protect. There is an indescribable entanglement of emotions stuffed into the marrow of his bones; he knows it’s there, for it burns him asunder from the inside out. All he could do in this lethargic state is for him to lie and wait for a break devastating enough for them to leak out like spilled blood from his torniqueted wound, coloring his skin with bruises and soaking his mind in ash. 

Amidst trudging through the isolated road of his past, Hanzo Hasashi’s soul aches - beneath the seeping radiance of the break of dawn and the gentle rustle of his beloved getting ready for his work - as he feels the grating sensation of a bone-deep hollowing. Melancholia have infested his bloodstream and eroding him paper-thin. He feels nothing, but the full ache of loss, and despite knowing he shouldn’t ever feel this way - the logical part of his brain says this too shall pass, and that he’s had moments much worse and severe. But it still aches, and he aches, and he desperately finds himself staunch the flood of tears that will deluge beneath his closed lids and fluttering lashes. 

“I don’t want to tell you how lonely I feel sometimes; laying in bed when the sky is splitting above me, shapes and colors warping the reality in unison with my broken being, lines and lines touching my blood and brain, deepest tissues and deepest fears,” sleep-laden and gravelled, the somber timbre of his voice resonates quietly, carrying candor genuineness and intensity. Soon, the brushing of fingers ebb and flow through the atmosphere, as his saturated chestnut eyes wave a salty, alluring sea of great distance away. Hanzo’s grip lingers on Ryou’s leg, wanting to be entangled in the smoldering torches of their warmth, burning away the abomination of what damaged, traumatized mind could continue to conjure. 

“I find myself going through the days where I feel like I’m going through a long eternity of grief; the sky in my life turning gray, with persistent pouring deluge of rain, as despair desperately clawing its way out of my throat. Letting go sounds absolutely fucking terrifying, but I know it will end my unending suffering. I need your help to hold such heaviness, to simply deal with demolished memories scattered everywhere, amidst destruction and ruin and all these fucking ugliness.”  💥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ there is a bullet for everyone (assassin/hitman verse) #✗ epitome of sunlight (ryou sakai || sonxflight) #(hanryou) #(Hanzo says fuck work) #sonxflight

[sasorikigai]

❝ i brought some seeds for your garden.  i thought about bringing a bouquet but— this way you can grow them and enjoy them longer. ❞

CONVERSATIONAL  SENTENCE  STARTERS  || @sonxflight  || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Sometimes nature blesses him with a gift as a reminder that Hanzo Hasashi is seen, heard, loved just as he is. All the years of planting seeds, immersing his knuckles in the dirt, waiting through the seasons with exemplary patience until exhausted at last, would then he surrender, become part of the landscape surrounding him. He would resolutely give his whole self, without an ounce of hesitation and doubt; if fruit of the Shirai Ryu and the goodness of the Earthrealm could be borne, not from their meager human effort or even their passion and desire, but from the pouring out of patience and nurturing the soil from their souls. What grace, what delight, is to remember that he is worthy and deserving of all the good in the world, despite having threatened to be disintegrated beneath the caustic venom and decay of irreversible death and nonexistence. 

With his revivified vivacity and vigor, Hanzo Hasashi’s touch remains so soft, so gentle, and how Ryou Sakai’s words touch him in all the right places, as if he is fragile. How his beloved gazes into his eyes as if they are the ocean, the clearest surface he has ever seen, and he strokes Hanzo’s hand so gingerly, so softly, as his own eyes begin to well with familiar emotion of unyielding devotion and appreciation. How they exist in one moment, so right, so sound, in great relief and relaxation amidst his personal garden filled with effulgent, aromatic flora and verdant array of oriental verdure. 

Every detail of what he used to share with his beloved Harumi still stands out as brightly as scintillating stars above, against the backdrop of his memory. So many would still see him as nothing more than incarnate tragedy, riddled with heartbreaks and griefs and downfalls; a ticking bomb of disappointment and incompetency no matter which path he pursues, for Hanzo Hasashi will forever be the source of strife and sorrow, either mourned living or dead. Despite the dishonor and infringement exacted upon his being, he remains a character with vitality and visceral intensity; such preserved feelings of love, loyalty, and devotion still shines resplendently as luculent embers, both dazzlingly starlike and embodying the dulcet apricity of the sun. 

“Seeds are a bizarre phenomenon; what else material is such finite little thing, a unique beauty, trapped in identical mundane destined to be a permanent fixture, entrapped in-between the case, something in between the living and the dead? If nourished properly, then life would burst forth and propagate, if not, it would simply be nothing, but inconsequential formation,” aches of kindled memories of his past would continue to grow in his sunken, exhausted eyes, beneath his sun-roughened and scarred flesh. Even in Harumi Hasashi’s stained absence, how she still remains forever engraved in his heart and soul. For he is bounded by love and the ancient covenant their souls made, just as the renewed covenant between the two warriors stand erect, holding the unyielding, resilient promises they made towards the sustenance and sanctity of Earthrealm. 

“Despite finding myself irrevocably lost in the trees among the ever-changing leaves of the passing seasons, I no longer weep beneath the wild, tumultuous sky filled with tormenting streams of ancient times’ stories. The bloomed flowers now grow towards our light, as the cleansing rivers call my name at night. While it has taken me a while to perceive the allure of life without decay and destruction... I can feel the proverbial dark of my mind gradually dissipate and disintegrate, with the flourishing viridescent songs of healing nature.” Just as Ryou Sakai’s mellifluous gossamer caresses unearth Hanzo Hasashi’s rotten soil, filled with unsaid feelings and unpursued dreams.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ hellfire fibrillating beneath his skin (iv) #✗ epitome of sunlight (ryou sakai || sonxflight) #(hanryou) #(heliac flames) #sonxflight

[sasorikigai]

[ dream ] + [ touch ] ( Old Guard or Assassin AU )

SOULMATE STARTER PROMPTS || @sonxflight || accepting

[ dream ]   -   for my muse to meet your muse in their dreams.

[ touch ]  -   for my muse to be able to feel everything your muse can feel.

💥 || Perhaps Hanzo Hasashi had been nothing more than a wandering soul traveling the wasted land; the subconscious brimming with perilous endeavors stretching the continents and periods. He feels paralyzed, stuck in time, in the moments that he so desperately tries to get away from. The screams of the afflicted and suffering, his own stifling anger threatening to shatter his ribcage in an eruptive force, along with the reciprocated violence repeat themselves over and over. Relentlessly, all the accumulated guilt, shame, and fear of the past all come flooding back the Immortal’s mind. They are impossible to escape, and he remains paralyzed. Paralysis within that same screams, the anger, and the violence as they refuse to wane and disintegrate within him. 

So many years have drained by, taking along Hanzo’s unabridged pain, the insane mindfuckery and the mercurial observations. All of his life’s passion and frenzy keeps him at bay amidst the torrential cacophony of his uncontrollable inferno sweeping forth, threatening to tear him asunder in the midst of ongoing war.

Had he dreamed of two souls merging into one, but every time the unfurling dreamscape had a solidifying chance to settle into his subconscious, it would come to an abrupt end. Time has been a continuing progress of existence that represents the past, present, and future as an inevitable force that can be both his best friend or his traitorous friend; time causes all pain and healing. In the brief stability of his dreamscape, would Hanzo Hasashi come across one Ryou Sakai, as his patience overwhelms the victim of time, as the stalling taunt of the other’s silhouette merges into the stark clarity for more than one construct of a scene. 

How Hanzo remains tethered to Ryou’s eggshelled bones; wondering himself if his consciousness has already left the world. Even with the ravaged hell wrought upon the mortal body, the war-torn muscles and sinew had already begun its repairing, as the weaving fibers of flesh begins to mend the deep lacerations that would have been irreversibly fatal. Beneath the magmatic velvet of spilled sanguine, Hanzo’s own cacophonous heartbeats beat with such vigor and vehement passion, as dark, brooding eyes gaze towards where all the falsehoods reign. Those who eschew the truth and all the good claims of the pristine world, as the cruel brutes loot the news of all fruitful days when they had been one of those who try and choose a new way to birth a world constructed in betterment and goodness. 

In the ripple of the crimson wave, Hanzo sees the other; his own suffering may be intransient, and yet, he had triumphed over and over again, conquering such torment and despair. He will march past death and leave no one behind, because death too, would lose its breath in headlong valleys when he moves into the familiarity of Ryou Sakai’s home as he would with stumbling legs. He will continue to learn to communicate with miles of darkness, despite his own body being anchored to the shore by its rusting, ferrous blood. His wound may darken on his chest like a crow, and yet, such close proximity of death will hand Hanzo Hasashi every new day like a golden coin; for his heart of gold gets heavier, thus worthwhile to carry. 💥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ undaunted intensity of solar flare (old guard au) #✗ epitome of sunlight (ryou sakai || sonxflight) #(hanryou) #(confusing I know. but I was trying to emulate the events when Jack/Ryou lost everything dear to him) #(aka what Hanzo/Scorpion went through in his own time) #sonxflight