#✗ endless persistent birdsongs of love (kuai liang || indulgentia)

[sasorikigai]

this is real , 𝙞'𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 . look at me .⠀»⠀❄️

↪     𝑫𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑺𝑰𝑻𝑼𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺  . || @indulgentia || accepting 

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Even the simplest act of breathing in air and breathing out could be gravely jeopardized when Hanzo Hasashi feels his emptiness making him into a void; a vacuum that sucks the life out of his veins. On this specifically cold November afternoon, when the air had grown so frosty even the pyromancer felt an involuntary tremor fibrillating beneath his tanned flesh, he would be carried into a motionless scenery from a place were time doesn’t exist - and how he missed Kuai Liang’s presence with a force. Through the solidarity and solidity of his battle-scarred entirety, would thick clouds of his subconscious obscure his reality, drowning him in the unbearable laments in a language long since uncensored and unfiltered. Harumi and Satoshi would emerge with a mirage of truth on their lips, as torrential surge of sanguine would taint them beneath the ominous eclipse, which would slither across time with such graceful lust and willing to mark the familiar silhouette in the forest. 

Hanzo finds himself deeply rooted in grief, as he remains stagnant in his character. How could he let himself relinquish such resolve and strength to ward off deathly winter without his everburning flames, as death goes off hoarding the vast tenebrous darkness that would continue to punish and smolder him? Even when he had been the most entrusted enforcer of Quan Chi, destroying what’s clinging of his humanity like a desperate little weed with unbending conviction under wicked machinations, he would refuse to erode away and let himself be be devoured. Even as his essence rubbed raw, threatening to erode and desaturate beneath the corroding salt and sand of wasted potential of his character and time as a warrior and a survivor, his subconscious would be solely fueled by the rush that comes with feeling powerless. All he has to do is to submerge beneath the perturbed surface of his hearth embers, dive under swells and feel the undertow; pulling, pushing, pressing down, hit each wave just right or be slapped down, consumed and annihilated to become naught. 

That inexplicable exhaustion must make its way towards Kuai Liang, whose empathetic gaze seems to pull Hanzo Hasashi’s own skin, the very growing gashes of grief. A bandage he never learned how to properly wear as split seams reveal ugly kintsugi cracks. Despite such deadly concoction of despair and depression, stripping his candor emotions bare and becoming evermore vulnerable isn’t something Hanzo resents in front of his beloved. He has to realize the fact that he has transformed himself into kindness forged from the embers of hatred and vengeful flames of wrath, and infernos of blinding rage, as flames of self-destruction burned resplendent to catalyze a creation which will brighten the world ablaze. 

In his loneliest nights, how Liang shows up like a north star; after the grayest of waves have had their way with him. His beloved comes to him warm, with the simplest touch of his cool hand on his back, lest his inelegant posture of his slouched musculature threatens to collapse like an avalanche. Liang’s gaze become moons of clear night and his breaths like the mitigating wind that would guide him like a compass. 

“Nightmarish visions of hopelessness and despair often forces me to plunge deep into the abysmal darkness without light, like a sudden power failure, all my expectations and hopes... would collapse,” all my expectations with you would collapse and I can only be silent in silence, for it would be the reality that would irreversibly kill my expectations for the unknown future. Perhaps Hanzo Hasashi’s world was meant to be so tragically beautiful, as he trudges through the graveyard of stars, long pulverized and vanished. But they are no longer just two mortal bodies standing face-to-face, two envelops of flesh with nothing folded inside. They have been emptied, with the exposed field of bones surrounding them like a fresh snowfall, except that their human heart, filled with honor, credo, resilience, and tenacity helped them to endure and eventually conquer the insufferable pain. “Whenever I look at you in times of my trials and tribulations, I gravely fear this moment, this time of legends risen and resurrected together in tandem may simply extinguish.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

Perhaps his stubbornness in making the other grandmaster go through this was unjustifiable, but at the same time perhaps it wasn't his fault this desire to bring a little comfort to someone who came to pay him a visit in such a so unwelcoming place out of his own volition. A warm bath, calmly prepared by the Lin Kuei Grandmaster himself, who also seemed to have insisted on providing a little extra care in person.

He waited for his companion to be properly undressed and settled in the hot tub, taking the opportunity to wash his hair. Carefully taking it in hand, he gathered it all and began to slide the rough and somewhat cold digits through the thick strands, from the forehead to the last tips, that came about Master Hasashi's strong shoulders. Moving the hands so very slowly, all that could be done was to savour through the touch every single texture under the guise of diligent cleaning work. Such work was clumsy, sometimes for lack of skill (or more precisely, lack of opportunities like the one unfolding) sometimes on purpose too, to make sure it was done properly. The fingers also brushed the other’s nape and the solid shoulder blades, leisurely caressing the scars along the way in silent admiration and awe. The feeling was a delight, obviously felt in satisfied secretin this candid moment.

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

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Once, in the ill-fated day of his death, gelid cold ripped his heart apart like a piece of paper; Sub-Zero’s hands gripped him so tightly, refusing to let go even when his own fingers ached and Hanzo let Bi-Han do it. His heart crumbled into shards of flakes more when he had to admit they pierced his lungs; with unconsciousness came the inherent desire to be free. Hanzo Hasashi’s ego knew that the price of freedom was his inevitable, seemingly irreversible death, because to be free was to be conscious. As Scorpion, the vindictive wrath full of ire and vengeance had a false sense of freedom, through the illusion of choice strung by Quan Chi’s marionette control. 

Every monster has an innate understanding of agony; a best friend, also a very, very special gift, to be reborn with a perpetual wound in his soul, shared with his naked, unadulterated emotions. In Grandmaster Hasashi’s chest, there still may be a rift; his soul, a void; his mind, chaos and confusion that still disorients him from time to time. And he would open his eyes to see a horror, an excruciating pain like he has never known before, even as his familiar intimacy with unbearable pain bringing back the echoing sound of endless souls; screaming, crying in agonizing torture of hellfire. 

All Hanzo Hasashi ever wanted was to gently fall like stars, swirling sempiternal love in his heart, twirling like galaxies in the night. Kuai Liang had been his as the sands of time continue to whisk through the black of the unknown space that is Earthrealm and its perilous, threatened fate. Even as the susurrus digits of intimate coldness breeze through his being, his beloved’s face continues to reminisce in his mind; his flavor, the taste of Lin Kuei Grandmaster’s soul coercing his behavior. Perhaps this was a little magic he needed in his occupied life as one of the Protectors of Earthrealm, a little cosmic love, maybe a kiss or two, but definitely such a tender, intimate moment. How Hanzo manifests rays of sunshine aglow in his sun-kissed flesh, alive in the brightness that is his beloved. 

Hanzo Hasashi is no longer an impure beast with a tired vengeful core, but a resilient soul of a survivor fighting off the dread of this universe threatening to shatter what he loves in disintegrating atoms. The way his eyes laying upon A-Liang is like a sunset sky; every color he speaks would light up on his chiseled complexion as the glowing smolder of his warmth enshrouds them in a gentle glow. How his life, unlife, then once again becoming the absolute best version of him in his life had been the process of discovering, the everlasting and perpetual process, not the discovery itself, at all. And he would hold onto this newfound love as tight as he can; for Kuai Liang bestows everything that Hanzo Hasashi needs to satiate and quell all of his yearning. 

How his entirety manifests as the most beautiful luminescence, dazzling like the perpetual sun, as his serene, calm, and relaxed visage paints the exquisite image of his beloved in effortless strokes. Longing, how soft a word for such a ravenous feeling, he muses, even in silence, sincerely hoping that his steady, slow breathing and his smoldering, smoky aura would seep into Liang’s senses. How I still hunger in silence, as I continue to find the music of our sensuous serenade, ignite its fire and let its beat move both of us in synchronization.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

"Do you understand the meaning of the words 'low profile'?" 》 ❄️

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

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || The dust of his excruciating pain, the accrued onslaught of grief-induced wrath and vengeance had long settled, along with all-destructive firestorm of his emotions. Maybe they were like the last faint ray of sunset of the past, lest the remnants of such may curl into his murky, impervious thoughts of familiar despair and trials. Even as Hanzo Hasashi of the past, his emotional maelstrom drifted him back into obscurity, shutting the mouth of truth which retracted his purity and goodness if they were not sabotaged already by the blitzkrieg of the unstable world in continuous battle. Before he wielded hellfire as his weapon, Hanzo Hasashi manifested himself as the fire that burns throughout the night, becoming towering inferno that would keep Shirai Ryu of fright and destruction, before the abused spark of his deep torment and grief of witnessing the slaughtered decimation of his clan. 

He would refuse to become a choked life held within the confines of ubiquitously defined profession of shinobi. How could Hanzo Hasashi ever subdue or wane a burning power of elemental might, when he was meant to stand tall in his fight, in the rapturous fire’s hearth uncontainable? He refuses to be waned, for Scorpion, who have surrendered his humanity and contained beneath Quan Chi’s evil sorcery, in strain and further strain, only lived through the vile plague of meaningless nonexistence. Grandmaster Hasashi has a million and one feelings endlessly rising, for he defiantly fights to conquer the deserted landscape of barren destruction, as passion burns through the fierce blaze of a Phoenix forged from ashes and detritus of his literal and metaphorical destruction. 

“In the way embers desire fiber and fire desires fuel, like chaos craving cirtue, wreaking that which yearns to be destroyed, I would rather come alight with the spark of brazen creation that is my purified hellfire, to defiantly change and challenge the prospect of evil,” how Hanzo looks at his beloved with such wanton intensity, as if his sarcasm was that which he needed to simply exist. 

There may be a certain rawness about Hanzo Hasashi that many wouldn’t even dare try to understand; except Kuai Liang. For he is the chaos in the brewing wind and fire across the sky, and not everyone can appreciate the beauty of a storm. No mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed, and through the lightly-leashed blaze of his kunai, would he annihilate every rippled wave of tumultuous past memories by macerating the fabrications brought forth by the New Era. “After all, fire is not meant to be suffocated nor subdued; like a scorching sun, I was meant to be the permutations of burning. For I am not a creature that was born. War is my fevered, raving dance once shamed by the absence of my humanity, and once my desires hurled itself once again into resurrection into fire, the flames’ relentless craving became ceaseless.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

@indulgentia​ submitted; 

ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴡʜy ɴᴏᴛ?  ♡

Random Inbox Shenanigans || @indulgentia​ || always accepting! 

SUCH PERFECTION BRU!!! I love this so much, thank you for such for such an unexpected gift in my inbox <3<3<3

[sasorikigai]

❛❛ I didn’t say “I love you” to hear it back. I said it to make sure you knew. ❜❜ ⠀»⠀Liang Liang

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

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || The desiccated soul used to rage with such unfeeling feel with the dry vehemence of the unreal; the winds of his inextinguishable inferno shifting direction, as the tenebrous darkness of the Nether surrounded him, heavy and stifling. Scorpion dared not to distract his empty full moon gaze from the mirror before him, the reflection of a face once resembling Hanzo Hasashi’s long-slaughtered, decayed, pale, betraying the quintessential wholesomeness before him. 

Any trace of familiarity long gone, and the wraith never dared to lift the veil where the subjective meets the objective, the terrifying truth lying beneath it all. For all-engulfing and devouring rage and vengeance caused its torrential cacophony to breach the proverbial quietness of the revered ninja, as eeriness and uneasiness crawled over every tormented inch of his skin; deafening and misleading, intruding and invading his every pore. 

The trance brought upon by the onslaught of hellfire was tempting and addictive; the more he looked, the less he could truly perceive and understand, as the face continued its revolting and evil distortion. For it was to tell him his fate, that he should no longer wish for the years to come. They were already robbed away from his vehement, desperate grasp. 

Now, big, chestnut brown, round eyes stare back, embedded with yellow stones of a grim, severe smile deceiving him as Grandmaster Hasashi finds once again descending back into the familiar shadows. The winds have shifted again, this time accompanied by something entirely else. It used to bring such an adverse hatred and apprehension, but now it beckons him to join in such thermodynamic embrace. How Kuai Liang’s delightful display - reminds Hanzo Hasashi of pristine snowdrops with white heads, saturated with the sinking sun’s radiant glory - echoes Hanzo’s own bursting heartbeat surging with warmth and passion. With sounds and vibrant colors intimately and only known to him, as they saturate one another with a perfectly harmonious union. 

The sun never merely shines, but it burns through the strong, taut fibers of his muscles. They are revered, feared, and worshipped to no end, with raw carnality and sensuality. Perhaps this is why Hanzo crawled back to, and from Death itself, knowing this makes him feel the universe to its furthest, deepest, to the immeasurable extent to see how sempiternal love could be shaped and sustained. 

“Gloom used to fashion a home out of bloodstained shoji walls, as I entombed myself in a dark prison of dust as a familiar expression of Sub-Zero loomed. Shortly after that, it was nothing, but disarray forming a helpless void as I screamed internally, shackled and bound in a cell of Quan Chi’s malicious and wicked design.” 

Knowing it was once a cage that held a vengeful, bloodthirsty beast enraged and unrestrained, locked down tight, never to be freed in fear for his human guilt and despair - Hanzo suppresses the fury and insanity brought upon by the haunting recollections of his past. He knows, he is no longer the raw, unfinished self, for the one he is becoming along with his beloved will only solidify this tenderly unfolding moment. Both in weakness and strength, Hanzo will always have a reason to think about Kuai Liang, even without the conversations of their entangled, coalesced bodies. 

“We have experienced the bounds of heightened hopes and dim lows, acknowledged fears and inevitable despair which stemmed from our clans’ long rivalry. While I still struggle with the unresolved anguish etched into my bones, I find myself deeply secured in the crevasses of your mosaic. I will make sure I will continue to fuel that deepest childlike wonder and kindness deeply held within your eyes to extend beyond our sublime love,” Hanzo hopes his genuine smile could blow tranquil peace into his beloved’s veins, as his lingering touch becomes the empyrean comfort as the swell of his lips capture that of the cryomancer’s own. 

His lips are meant to arrest both their unshed tears and imperfections, and send them to a joyful place, where they only exist as their unbidden selves. “As your waves of sincerity will continue to cloak me, I will continue to pave my righteous path along with you in reciprocation.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

Also slaps this on here in lieu of the Kafka quote; “You belong to me, I have made you mine. I have fought for you within myself, from the beginning, and always anew, and perhaps forever.” 

This, in its entirety, literally defines the premise of Hanzo Hasashi and Kuai Liang’s complex relationship. It’s extremely complicated and intricate; they were meant to gravitate towards one another, not just with Quan Chi’s meddlesome obsession for Hanzo and obviously Lin Kuei defecting away from Earthrealm’s cause to enlist as evildoers under Shao Kahn’s influence. They are ouroboros, Yin and Yang, Fire and Ice, two halves of a whole, whatever metaphor out there that COMPLETES one another. 

I lack the singular word to describe their wholesome, sublime relationship at the moment, for it couldn’t ever be defined with JUST A WORD but that’s what they are. 

[sasorikigai]

@indulgentia​ submitted; 

↳ 〈 ⠀ꜰʀᴏᴍ Bᴏᴍ Dɪᴀ ᴇ Tᴀʟ ♡⠀〉

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

I AM FREAKIN DYING LMAOOOOOOOO BRU THIS IS FUCKING BRILLIANT AS ALWAYS <3

[sasorikigai]

[ CLOSE ] ⠀»⠀His skin is colder than normal, probably a sign that his mind is too submerged in pleasure to keep his powers under control as his embrace tightens 💙💛

SOFT  DETAILS  FOR SMUT  &  INTIMATE  MOMENTS || @indulgentia || accepting

[ CLOSE ]  sender wrapping their arms around receiver who is on top after they’ve finished,  holding them close against their chest with their face hidden in their neck while they recover.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Countless times had Kuai Liang held Hanzo Hasashi’s body and kissed his naked skin; but to see him as the most candor and vulnerable whole is to really strip him down, greet his lonely bones with intimacy and slow dance with his exhausted soul. To love him is to embrace the parts of him that are hidden away, even in his unapologetic directness and openness, aching for Liang’s gentle touch as their hearts continue to race, threatening to plunge out of chests. 

They paint one another with long, tender kisses and tiny bites, interlocked hands grazing the coalesced hardness of their warrior bodies as goosebumps claw and crawl on skin. How they poured into each other, with unspoken whispers of ‘I love you’s’ joined by mutual connection, desiring affection never bestowed upon another, but of each other. Once two disparate spirits long blended to become whole, as their exquisite touch caresses the very night they devour under and consume the syllables of heated breaths with reverence. 

The pyromancer feels as if he would submit himself in this surrender, lest la petite mort thrums in perfect synchronicity as his member still thrusts with such raging tempest, filled with saltwater and motion, as spilled pearly ichor mingle and paint them, making masterpieces out of their heavily blemished, chiseled forms. The vibrations reverberating through the entirety of his being solicits the truth, rendering the external and the internal naught. It is much more than an act of two becoming one, for they have already become a seamless stream, flowing in tandem, effortlessly and proverbially as one. How Hanzo Hasashi yearned to be unfurled; and bleary hold the light of his beloved whole. As his lips stain with soft hues of their mirthful smiles and wanton desires, how the depth of his scintillating eyes reflect the star-filled night of Shirai Ryu, a world now filled with wonder, rebirth, and rejuvenated love. 

The once-unforgiving chill of despair kills him softly, tenderly (oh, how Liang makes him ache), drowning him deep down in his eyes, filled with fathomless, tantalizing sapphire blue. Grandmaster Hasashi’s flames may have burned stifling red and black, scorching everything in its wake in inextinguishable blaze, but now, how his flames burn blue, its spreading mellifluousness merging in tandem with that of the cryomancer’s, as it would solely burn for his beloved. How Liang’s exhales kill him softly, painting his lips in twilight hues; as his own heart remains inspired, captivated, and accelerated. 

“I still have this insane desire to want everything all at once, offer my everything for the taking.... If I must go down and metaphorically die a thousand deaths, they will be in love and legacy of our unification.” As he delves in the art of sensual pace and peace, with every fiber of his being adhering and holding onto Sub-Zero’s broader chest, Hanzo’s head careens towards Liang with both the grace and ferociousness of a tiger, as the vigorous spirits of his love exudes as his lips latch onto catch any expanse of his beloved’s flesh. “I always thought the end of my world would be fire and brimstone, but it is the sheer transparency of our eternal love that have assuredly cured my sick, tainted heart. You write words on my heart which will always remain, and your etched passion and absolute trust you bestow upon me will forever be the catalyst to my everburning embers.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

No words would leave his mouth, but his expression is pretty telling of how worry had burden his mind and heart after being painfully separated from the other. Gripping Hanzo's shoulder, he places thus the forehead over his afterwards, eyes closing. Though his body still seems solid as the mountain he had been forced to be for so long, there's this slight, barely noticeable trembling in strong structure. ⠀»⠀ ❄

Reunion after (physical) trauma prompts || @indulgentia || accepting

[ TEARS ]  for receiver to find tears on sender’s face, when they’re finally reunited (either immediately after the trauma, or waking up in a hospital), because sender thought receiver was dead or dying + extra context

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || I have got to live, no matter what happens, I cannot ever die. Hanzo Hasashi had repeated this over and over again, like a mantra, as if he had been trying to hypnotize himself. With the quite flurry of the barest sound, he had realized that the tenebrous shadowy tendrils of absolute darkness had impaled his chest. Just a light ka-cha, amidst the swirling wreaths of flurrying inferno burning ablaze in the wake of his and Noob Saibot’s intense, unpredictable assaults intended to lacerate and incapacitate. All he recalls is his chiseled, glistening chest spreading stifling warmth. 

No pain, but just the sensation of sanguine fluid leaking from his body, and his hypervigilant vision blurring and fading rapidly. The mocking, deriding words of Grandmaster Hasashi’s mortal enemy failed to reach, as he felt something unyielding and immovable up against the back of his head. He must have collapsed even without realizing, lest a devastating thud had already impacted his right arm, which lay fractured under the weight of his hard muscles trained to endure and resiliently absorb even the most excruciating pain which begins to spread through his spine, then through his skull.

This absolutely powerless, humiliating sensation of falling into a deep sleep without expecting his consciousness dissolving into mist, to be scattered forever, and yet his mind still casting about is nothing new; Hanzo Hasashi has conquered and defeated even Death in order to fight his human fear and uncertainty, which tenaciously gripped the root of his heart and the core of his indomitable soul. His physical sense may have faded to linger in the abysmal quagmire, but his rampant subconscious fought through Noob Saibot’s torrential wind howling outside the nearly-dilapidated house of his consciousness. Hanzo Hasashi, you are dying. Are you sad? Scared? Even Netherrealm will not claim you this time. 

The unrelenting soul that still bears witness to the lasting fortitude of Hanzo Hasashi’s defiant, inextinguishable embers had exuded out from his eyes, even as his breath became a rattle. “Kuai Liang,” he mouthed, but he had been wrung dry, and his voice never sounded. “You have bestowed me such burning passion for life with persuasion of your exemplary life, for you wield courage calls to take risk, and empyrean compassion to extend mercy and wisdom to those who seek them. Know that no regret, no surrender is my plan. With perseverance and faith, I will defy death, for I take this conquest I fated to be.” 

His mind had been sleeping since longer than he could remember, set comatose in order to maintain itself. Hanzo Hasashi’s body seemed to eventually give in under the pressure of irreversible darkness, but the pyromancer had been pushed through too many wars and conflicts, too frequently, much too soon in the span of decades. Nothing, not even the necessary hell could pluck his unwavering spirit and body, as immolating pain hammered away his being even as he would, all of the sudden, regain consciousness. As if to symbolize rebuilding foundations of his being, an defunct kiln surging rapidfire warmth as his being would burn ablaze with effulgent life and dwelling strength within. 

“I have been replaying times we spent. From back when I would rest my ear on your chest, just to feel your heartbeat down to my toes, as the twin flames of our being burned with poetic fires of our rhymes and rhetorical desires of not only carnality, but beyond tangible manifestations,” seeped exhaustion leaves through his half-lidden gaze, as the deep gravel of his voice warms Liang’s face, as his constructed vision of wistful expression lingers long. “I always think of you even before I fell into a long sleep; all the words you said, the way you looked, the things we reminisced about, all the silent moments we shared just like this particular moment.” 

When I dream, I will always dream of you. Because it is about you. It has always been about you. Hanzo Hasashi never misses a beat to behold such beautiful, rare sight of his beloved expressing indescribably complex emotions, as his own lips become the rolling waves, surging and rising, filling Kuai Liang with bliss. Where he is, transfixed and ensorcelled, is where he belongs. Lest the weakened wind will whisper memories from long ago, Hanzo remains cradled, safe, and free - and he is a re-sprouted seed, waiting to become a vehement tree, waiting to show his true beauty, as the gleaming intensity of his polished gaze saturates with abundant, ignited love.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

The idea of soulmate, for Hanzo, is someone whom he has a deep, almost spiritual connection. He feels whole and at peace when he is in his soulmate’s company. He/She knows his deepest secrets, the flaws he hides from the others. Soulmates such as Kuai Liang ( @indulgentia​ ), Ryou Sakai ( @sonxflight​ ), and Talia Jones, aka Yang ( @yetremains​ ) bind his old wounds, and act as confidant, friend, lover, counselor, cheerleader, protector, and when necessary, even takes on a kindly parental tone. 

Soulmates are beautiful, mystifying, and illusive, and yet, Hanzo/Scorpion is blessed in having at least one in his multiverse and multiship. Originally, Harumi Hasashi was the one whom he fell in love with, who also became his best friend who cherished him dearly, wholly, without question and doubt. He wished to build a terrific future with her by having a large family (on top of Satoshi and Koharu, I’d like to believe he would have thrived with a large family with many children under his care), as having a family with her made him constantly feel whole, happy, and complete. 

After losing Harumi and Satoshi, and everything he had aspired and solemnly vowed to keep perished in the massacre filled with despair and deep sorrow, Hanzo Hasashi has learned to acknowledge that everyone has flaws (including himself), and these imperfections are bound to show up in his closest relationships. No one can truly alleviate nor diminish someone else’s insecurities, their selfish impulses, or their past hurts and traumas, etc. They are lovers worthy of his affection, simply because they are wholly understanding of him, but also will still insist that he not let such impulses define him, nor hold him back in his ongoing healing process. For their beautiful relationships diminishes his hurts, and buttress his insecurities - but it will never wipe the slate clean for him. 

And that’s why these relationships (and obviously with others) are exquisitely beautiful to me. 

[sasorikigai]

“Don’t look at me, don’t talk to me, don’t touch me. Let’s get this mission over with, then never acknowledge my existence, again, got it?”⠀»⠀( for pre-MKX verse? )

enemies to…. friends? allies??  … sentence starters || @indulgentia || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || There is this vigorous urge to outlive so much of this excruciating, soul-destroying hurt; for it sways evermore violently like a precariously sailing boat in the midst of a restless thunderstorm of his agony and tribulations. Hanzo Hasashi finds himself hopelessly consumed by its cataclysmic ways, all the tedious goings and knowings, and goings and knowings. When he can only afford less, Grandmaster of Shirai Ryu gets with what little in his resurrected self he may have left. The thoughts of himself standing amidst the blood-ravaged carnage of his old clan overwhelms him, like a damaged boat consumed whole by a hungry hurricane. Except, that almighty and powerful hurricane brutally burns him asunder, with everburning tendrils that would eternally scorch his heart and soul. 

The sprawled, brutalized carnage of his family and clansmen, along with heavily macerated and mutilated body of his - de-spined, pounded beyond recognition beneath the impalement of icy death - as the cascade of maggots and festering decomposition stenches the once-sacred grounds with nothing, but Death’s great black wing scraping the air. Misery still gnaws him to the bone, but he’s beyond the abysmal despair. For deep transparent skies above now reveal the forgiveness of all the unjustly slaughtered, and how they glitter with new galaxies of life resplendent amidst the New Shirai Ryu. Even the darkest night was meant to end and the proverbial sun in his heart had risen, thanks to the cycle of rebirth after what was thought to be an eternal damnation in Nether. 

Beneath the stark and visceral onslaught of flashing nightmarish visions, Hanzo’s resolute, unyielding gaze remains fixated to the Lin Kuei; despite being still spiraling into this great, unstable mess of imagined blood and foam in the exact moment of his death, his vehement emotions surface through his piercing chestnut eyes. With somber, imperceptible stretch of his bitter smile, revealing his internal brokenness, he ignores the decay and spoilation, all the bloated corpses fermenting in the Japan’s humid summer hands, imitating the sagging spines of wilting flowers of the past, while the blooming elite Shirai Ryu Generals stand erect in the present, staring towards the sky, even in their rest. How his eternal embers contort and convulse in the black; inferno of night, its heat smothering him. How he seizes the image of this Sub-Zero in his retina, as his severe glare narrows, growing chatoyant with the wildfire surfacing beneath it. 

“Your demand is patently absurd; in order to retrieve the Kamidogu, we must work in tandem as if we are of one,” hence, if this younger Sub-Zero loves a paradox, he can really say, and say with strict truth if he will allow for the ambiguity of their indefinable relationship, whether it be temporal partnership or even a complete cessation of hostilities due to their part in Earthrealm’s Defense. “The knowledge of ‘eternal truths’ may never draw in our lifetime and beyond, but should you care for both of our clans’ sustenance and legacy, I expect you to dismiss our ill-fated rivalry.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

How does Grandmaster Hasashi feels about that thunder God? Does master think he's reliable or trustworthy? Despite deceiving his champions and omitting pertinent information... And actually inducing Grandmaster Kuai into searching the kamidogu and exposing him to unfathomable dangers and all...

Send my muse anons about their relationships. || anonymous, mention of @indulgentia || always accepting!

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Excruciating forlornness, combined with undying, unconditional love becomes a set of perfect words for the way Grandmaster Hasashi feels for the past gruesomely slaughtered and pulverized. Weary words for a weary feeling; the coalesced twisting of joy and hurt that comes with each thought of his beloved Harumi and Satoshi. Closing his tenebrous chestnut eyes bring forth the long-disintegrated and faded reflections of them in  their pinnacle, along with his own being, who looks much less melancholic and at ease. His subconscious absent from the hoisted torture of despair, vengeance, grief, and regrets. This version of past Hanzo Hasashi looks more agreeable and pleasant, yet so far away. 

How the pyromancer finds himself drifting into the cerulean abyss above his head, despite all the unspoken love poems and bird calls, all fading into the sky like woolen embraces with an absent lover. They remain divine poetry that forever touch his heart and soul so deeply, ardently, and passionately. Yet, there is a silver lining in all this; that his days used to be empty, sorrowful, and colorless. For everything he does even in the name of righteous justice and rebuilding of the Shirai Ryu still reminds him of so much irreversible pain and loneliness, and his defiant love is the one that saturates awestruck passion, making his heart swell with transformative gasps of divinity, crossing the realms of humanness and godhood. His hellfire could be windswept, soft-caressing, and yet simulate widespread, all-engulfing destruction. 

His complex emotion towards the Thunder God had entombed unparalleled hatred and wrath in deep mind, as Scorpion once lost himself to the pool of rhythmic vibration that was the magmatic explosive inferno. A ripping whirlwind that would even unfurl and unravel even the atoms of a demigod. For his resolute, indefatigable passion is the bridge that had taken him from wallowing in pain, to take on such a transformative change; utilizing his grief-fueled wrath and vengeance to save the world on the precipice of extinction, as the weaponized memory of helplessness sprawl of his brutalized body become the catalytic valor and strength. 

“There are things even a Thunder God cannot foresee, for he is not an omnipresent nor an omniscient God,” Hanzo believes such omittance of information could have accelerated the annihilation, along with himself drowning in the sorrows of unworthiness, afraid of receiving the very thing he craves so deeply, because the pieces of his past he doesn’t know how to let go of holds him hostage in the melancholic and morose depression of his head, as he lays awake at night with the emptiness in his chest, as chasm widens, as his soul would cry, and every night, feeling a little more dead inside (what an irony, as a resurrected man losing pieces of himself as his reflection would scream). “Lord Raiden deals with immense, incomprehensible responsibilities as Earthrealm’s Protector. However flawed and human the demigod has been in his fated role, I simply abide by what is asked of me, regardless of vices I continue to deal with affect my own responses, frequently in sudden gush of fury and vitriol.” 

“Perhaps I was loveless back then, when I sought Sub-Zero out to defeat him alive or dead; we were both cruel and perhaps heartless to some degree, as our respective hearts burned in their own light without taking regard for the different frequency and intensity, never finding the perfect constellation of words or actions as we both were wounded souls. I simply wanted to translate my pain onto the pages, but no words could ever assuage the punishing brutalization Liang took because of Kamidogu possession.” Hanzo’s fathomless chestnut eyes seem to speak to the soul of the inquirer; they remain deep, perhaps full of unadmitted revelations and secrets and dimensions that no member of mankind will ever comprehend, unless that individual was Kuai Liang. For his tenebrous darkness will shine an illuminative light upon the wise sapphire of Sub-Zero’s understanding and empathy, as pools of ink, once devouring light in their intensity would speak of Hanzo Hasashi’s subconscious and psychological torment and trauma. 

“Unless it was Sub-Zero, it would have been an impossible for anyone to endure the fatal exsanguination, lest breathing one’s last as my unforgiving rage would have suffocated, scorched, and burst one asunder.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

Do you think you can really keep this long distance relationship with the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei? You both seem pretty busy with your own matters.

Send my muse anons about their relationships. || anonymous, mention of @indulgentia || always accepting!

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Unparalleled trust and devotion always have been Hanzo Hasashi’s foundation; which continues to fuel nurturing growth and betterment, solely and wholly stemmed from his eternal love. Their indescribable and empyrean love causes Grandmaster Hasashi to be so captivated and enthralled by the world around him; the calm after a quick downpour, the air and ground of Fire Gardens soaking wet, the plants and flora vibrant and verdant, the baptismal cleanness of it all symbolizes Scorpion’s own pulverization and rebirth, a Phoenix risen from the abysmal depth of fathomless darkness of vengeance, despair, and wrath. 

He is simply content with the swarming warmth resonating within him against the still-thundering sky, as the wraith’s once truncated and one-dimensional perspective had significantly widened to accompany many virtues once slaughtered along with Hanzo Hasashi’s human self. The familiar emptiness and darkness may echo and ricochet, but its force will never be stronger than the sweeping love he bestows towards Kuai Liang. 

“There could not be a more splendid world, and here I am existing in it. Despite our seldom meetings of us lovers, I still embody the tendrils of Liang’s aura shimmering in his absence, as my heart continues to shiver in respiration and the radiance of his brilliant existence as it echoes towards the cantillation of my breaths,” even as Shirai Ryu reside in the warmest part of Japan, while inhospitable Arctika encases the hidden enclave of the Lin Kuei, filled with newly recruited outsiders who have vowed to do good, following Sub-Zero’s encompassing, kind tutelage, in the instrument of frigid coldness, Hanzo Hasashi sees the volant lightness without the deathly chill of despair and hopelessness which he saw moments before his gruesome death, and multitudes of others in disguised Quan Chi, taking elder Sub-Zero’s likeness. 

Somewhere, Kuai Liang is volant in Hanzo Hasashi’s sky, and vice versa; they will continue too rise towards each other, as if they had been a missing instruments correlating, synchronizing in time, filling in the gaps of their missing life. Despite missing him dearly in their busy, responsible lives of serving as the respective clans’ Grandmasters, Hanzo could never deny the fact that merely thinking of Kuai Liang gives him great comfort and serenity. How his heart would flutter at the thought of his name. Sometimes, it may become excruciating agony and twisting sucking sensation in the pit of his stomach as desperate yearning and longing would rob him of his concentration, but it is his proverbial, sempiternal love, loyalty, and devotion he holds for Liang that suffocates all the uneasy silence and brooding gloom of his nature. 

“No amount of distance and our respective absence will diminish the immeasurable scope of our love; for our love transcends the mortality, thus the finiteness of life itself. Just like the currents of Liang’s cryomancy and swirling eruption of my pyromancy, it is an inseverable construct which exemplifies the torrential floods of sensory muchness, assailing me with such wholesomeness. I have no doubt Liang would echo the same sentiment.” ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

🧑‍🤝‍🧑⠀»⠀🔥 + ❄️ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship || @indulgentia || selectively accepting!

👫 Hanzo Hasashi helps Kuai Liang to acknowledge his emotional pain - for it cannot ever be willed away, not completely anyways. Both Grandmaster may be capable of forcing a stoic look on their faces, and make themselves appear unfazed by an emotional blow, but superficial appearances, as well as efforts to distract, can never change the fact that they both feel pain and agony through the circumstantial traumas of their past. The purpose of feeling became long clear for both of them, for they are sagacious and mature enough to never deny reality, for they fully conceive themselves without deception and denial. Hanzo helps Kuai to attend to what he senses in the somatic responses, which may differ - as Hanzo explodes, while Kuai implodes - with their proverbial character. They both have learned to nurture empathy and compassion not only for one another, but those who deserve it. Their compassionate self-awareness helps them to truly acknowledge their pain and have a desire to ease it. They do this through cultivating happiness, spending more than enough time not only sparring, training, meditating together, but seeking proper respite, which often comes in the form of their joint onsen bathing, and sensual intimacy. 

👫 Ever since Kuai invited Hanzo to the Lin Kuei Temple to amend their bitter bloodshed and feud, Kuai Liang has taught Hanzo Hasashi the reality of change. Ever since Tundra took on the mantle of Sub-Zero and sought his own expectations through motivation, passion, unbridled resolve to reform the Lin Kuei’s long lost honor, he had taken more realistic, feasible steps to achieve his goals; there of course, were powerful moments of change, for some problems and challenges demanded sudden, radical change. However painful, strenuous, and difficult it may have been, Sub-Zero succeeded in solidifying Lin Kuei as one of the most prominent Earthrealm Defenders, with him as one of the most entrusted and formidable warrior Lord Raiden could rely on. Sub-Zero’s exceptional self-efficacy - his belief in his ability to have control over his behavior and events in his life- had been the foundation for Grandmaster Hasashi’s own motivation and achieving his dreams and goals. 

👫 To Hanzo, the familiarity of loss is something that has been inhabiting a dark corner of his mind ever since his resurrection. Consciously or unconsciously, his memory reproduces past experiences and simulate present and future possibilities, lest they too, all crumble down because Hanzo Hasashi is not the most optimistic individual. Memory for him becomes an essential tool he uses for adapting to various circumstances, but it also becomes an inwardly-turned blade that will continue to trigger distress or anguish. Despite experiencing the same disparate dualism, it is Kuai Liang who activates and overlaps positive emotions that they share, whether it be insignificant and mundane, or exceptionally poignant and vehement as they share their body, mind, and soul freely wthout absolute, unconditional trust and love. 

👫 Hanzo will always consider Kuai Liang to be a superior individual, instead of them being an equal (as Sub-Zero mentions in his intro with D’Vorah). While he does have certain pride, assertiveness, self-esteem, life satisfaction, and certain sense of optimism he used to not have in the past before being in a relationship with Kuai Liang, Hanzo reveres and values him greater than himself. Despite knowing Sub-Zero to be more than capable of fending off adversaries and the unknown they are meant to come across as warriors and leaders of their respective clans, Hanzo Hasashi will always plunge headfirst into the heart of the battle, most often risking himself in order to protect his beloved at all times. 

Bonus 👫 Most often, it’s their silence that means more to them than the flowery, eloquent words exchanged, for they will simply entangle themselves in bodies, hearts, and souls and remain in deep rumination, while tenderly and mellifluously caressing and stroking one another in soothing ministrations.  

[sasorikigai]

Grandmaster Hasashi have you ever heard of the Lady of the Flame , Delia? I heard one her remaining temples in Earthrealm is being used by cryomancers, ironic isn't it ?

Random Inbox Shenanigans || anonymous, mention of @indulgentia || always accepting!

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Accompanied by both the horror of life as Netherrealm’s wraith Scorpion and the ecstasy of renewed life as Grandmaster Hasashi, Hanzo Hasashi has been living two contradictory feelings with two contradictory hearts. He can still feel Scorpion’s malignant spirit in his presence, like a ghost haunting his psyche. The ocean of flame used to have a way of sucking the air out of Hanzo’s lungs; breathless, as he would stare at the neverending tides of harrowing destruction blending into the life-filled sky no longer unreachable, reflecting the suffocated world around without the beauty, no longer colored by the rays of gentle sun giving his world abundant joy and purpose. 

Once comforting porch planks of his home long rotten, a damp death reeking of vicious hands clawing up through soil, hands with flashing chill of despair traversing through the Lin Kuei metacarpals as his decayed brain hung from the rafters and held his human heart. No longer, that porch remains caved, forever permeated with ferrous sanguine, rusted chains beneath the bony starlight reflecting the irreversible legacy Hanzo Hasashi was meant to sculpt as Scorpion, the Shirai Ryu best. 

Body and Soul, they all dwell in lonely places, but both Kuai Liang and he exemplifies the solemn, vestigial grace and regality of Edenians once flocked the land eons before them. Their histories riddled with human memories and tearful, tragic lore, yet how they have rendered them fearless and obstinate, resistant against the inevitable calamity that is tenebrous darkness and merciless evil. 

“The history of the Lin Kuei Temple is not exactly a complete unknown to me. However, I gainsay the irony which does not do justice towards the human abode which is Lin Kuei and its dedicated, hardworking Grandmaster.” Hate no longer fills Hanzo Hasashi’s world like blood into a damp soil. Now, they are irreversibly tied by the indestructible eternity; beyond death and nonexistence. For him, to love is to even open the forbidden door, the passageway that takes him to the other side of time to conquer the black chasm that burns and bleeds, ripping through the state of naught. 

The resolute intensity of the Grandmaster’s blazing chestnut eyes emanate heatwaves of warmth, akin to the sunlight laying upon one like a burning blanket. The comfort of warmth may come with it, but the warmth of defiant defense towards the Lin Kuei Grandmaster stirs him with a new vigor and eternal love. “All that matters is Kuai Liang’s burning intensity towards rebuilding his clan’s ruined reputation and loyalty came with what only a bleeding heart can muster. Against all the gore and dirt, he has emulated a tremulous warmth of a human heart amidst the harrowing and undisclosed location of Arctika.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

‘ memories are all the same at their core . it’s just us trying to keep each other alive . the best parts anyway . ’ » A-Liang

*   ‘ 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍  𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒 ’  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 . || @indulgentia || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Gnawing pain in his chest, like cracked bones trying to find its place in blood and muscle ravages through Hanzo Hasashi’s entirety. The pain fluctuates, some days leaving the Shirai Ryu Grandmaster choked. Once, his notoriously proverbial agony, anguish, and despair decidedly let him remain as a gruesome, unforgivable monster in all the stories, when Scorpion simply wanted to live a little longer before his disintegrating chest caved in. 

The wretched world only sped up the process, simply because Scorpion wasn’t human anymore in anyone’s eyes. Yet, Sub-Zero saw more of Scorpion hidden beneath the unearthly glow of deathly spectral inferno ablaze, bathing in the proverbial and impervious dark and destruction, before their incalculable perception, understanding, and empathy had drawn together akin to that hugest whole recreation of selves, as they vowed eternally to fight to be esteemed and honored, fighting to survive and thrive for the sake of justice and peace. 

Now, their coalesced bodies remain entangled as their digits, despite the memory of his lowest nadir twist like a blade in his viscera. The feeling remains warm; bitter and bloody, as inceptions of Hanzo Hasashi’s numerous death in chagrin and humiliation. Yet, his love doesn’t remain lodged in granite; precious, but as-of-yet-undiscovered. Kuai Liang should never have to mine for Hanzo Hasashi’s love, for his erected scaffolding prevents both the weight of their own emotions from crushing either of them - lest Hanzo knows Liang could easily chip away at the stone-hard pieces of his trauma in utter darkness - and all those remembered good times, adventurous times, excited times, new times, and first times, they all constitute as booming happiness, emanating from the inside of him as the rays of its brilliant, magnificent light hugs every fiber from within him. 

“I now know, with every fiber of my being, in a thousand realities we are one - you are meant to take my hand and I take yours, as we float through the fathomless ocean of memories effortlessly,” because Hanzo believes the stars are aligned for them, and the moon casts only its light on the shadows of their smiles. And the ocean reflects only the stars and not their tears and bloodstreaked grief, loss, and their own dishonorable deaths and rebirths, lest Scorpion’s own had taken a divine intervention, one opportune moment conquering a thousand memories buried deep in the crude and brutal depths of Nether. 

If it weren’t for Liang’s invitation to the Lin Kuei Temple, Hanzo Hasashi’s heart would long have been faltered and fell, his lungs fluttered, perforated, and deflated without an inkling of humanity and compassion. Thunder and wind may roar, but in this beauteous splendor of the Fire Gardens, the Grandmaster’s candles remain alight, as his own spirits and voices soar into the depths of Liang’s sapphire orbs. They are his new home, a new place to reside, fields to roam without no rules to abide. 

“Sorrowful memories may continue to play tricks with my mind, but as you eloquently and ornately express, they too, tell me that’s all I need to survive. They no longer suffocate my heart and soul, and create an illusion of breathlessness in splendid bliss and euphoria. I find myself starstruck in our shared memories, as I continue to explore the once unknown deep waters of your being.” Wrath no longer burns Grandmaster Hasashi with every bit of stuffing, eternal hopelessness and vengeance, as Liang’s bestowed love paints him with delicate, mellow tenderness and softness, as does the scintillating polished depth of Hanzo’s eyes encompass his beloved in whole, with his cradled arms and warmth. “You continue to lead me to the person I was meant to be, continuing to shape me, challenge me, and grow me.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||