#✗ the shogun of sorrow (aku || swordsxandxshadows)

[sasorikigai]

❝  i always feel better when you’re here.  ❞ (Aku @Scorpion/Hanzo)

back at it again with misc memes || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Suddenly startled from slumber; completely covered in cold sweat, Scorpion’s head hangs heavy, hunched forward. His throat tied tightly, too tense to breathe, as panicked pulse with pins and needles ravage through his magmatic bloodstream and broad expanse of his marred flesh. His chest remains clutched by his long, calloused fingers, while all four chambers compress. When his own irredeemable flaws become comforting and the sting of bone-shattering winter’s wrath lessens, Scorpion’s eternal inferno keeps him warm, as tomorrow beckons - lest it isn’t all open arms and rosy cheeks - as it greets the spectre as if it has waited him for its entire span. 

The ghosts of the life Hanzo Hasashi used to live still linger in the empty space where Harumi and Satoshi used to be; and Scorpion wonders if he ever did become a better being, if he continued to love with all of his indomitable heart and soul, as all the torn and fractured parts of his being continue to heal. Aku and Scorpion’s love had been thicker than flesh, transcending beyond the corporeal and mystical; in this way, they are eternal and even their death will not do them part. How Aku holds him as if he was slipping away, already gone, and inevitably irretrievable. But they live in the same sky and the same horizon, as their love sees one another in the most sincere intentions; is everything and at the same time. How it permanently would change Scorpion as he would embrace the shallows of his flaws, as it lets him to stay the way he is without letting him lose his identity. 

Aku never saw him as a specter to manipulate, as he joined Scorpion in the fathomless depths of hell where they used to commit the greatest of sins; with destructive fire of sorrow, grief, and despair burning them ablaze, the rawest of elements engulfing them in everburning flames. “Reflections of my past are memories that cannot come back, forever left in arrears because of time. For it lives only in our mind as fragments or pieces once experienced for that moment, for that minute in time which amplifies further as the construct of my eternal time moves in painfully slow gait,” Scorpion’s absolute yearning becomes a breeze of feeling, as the effulgent sunshine of his tender gaze gives comfort to body and mind, further reminiscing of the ephemeral peace he enjoyed with his loving family. 

“Despite such ongoing trials and tribulations I may face, in your arms, the halcyon night lasts much more, in its softer, gentler ways, filled with a resolute hope. For my heart rises and shines golden. It will be just as soft, as understanding as the moonlight I used to gaze when the whirlwind of thoughts would consume me. My oaths, whether in life or death, mortal or eternal, would no longer be thrown to the abyss of Nether. For my oaths will sing out and emanate from my fathomless pyres, burning the world whole,” Scorpion extends his long, calloused fingers, a manifested construct of his vehement, solemn oath rewritten in the surface of his heart and soul. “For our effort and courage will be further bolstered with our purpose and direction. As long as we remain strong in not only body and mind, but our spirits and souls, we will conquer anything and everything.” 

Even as the grieving severity of his etched expression may continue to remain, as Scorpion’s pained expression tauts beneath his mask.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

" The first thing I noticed? Other than that hot bod? "

Aku chuckled, clearly joking. Not that he didn't adore that body, but that wasn't what he noticed first. No, a hand reaching up and caressing the other's cheeks in his hands, thumb stroking gently.

" No, the first thing I noticed was those eyes ... though they were dimmed at the time, it didn't hide the ferocity and strength that they gave. The stare that cut through and stared into the depth, seeing beyond what was on the surface, determined to push past barriers. They saw everything, showed everything, and I loved them from that moment till this and beyond. They're the most beautiful and powerful thing in the entire universe to me. "

what’s the first thing your muse noticed about mine? || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || It may be excruciatingly difficult to forget bone-seeped and soul-embedded pain, but it may be even harder to remember sweetness, once mellifluous and empyrean, but now putrescent and withered like a plucked rose. All used to be phantom, as Hanzo Hasashi’s heart and soul, utterly lost in the abysmal black hole of blackness that was his excruciating, humiliating death, as a thousand rivers of tears and blood, in sputtered silence, would weep. Turmoiled as what should be let or what it should keep was eternally lost from his vehement, desperate grasp, as he urged himself to fill in a big void lurking within him so deep and immeasurable widened and burned incessantly by the scorching inferno of his wrath and retribution. 

Perhaps Scorpion’s eyes remain fogged with regret; something that crawls, like the firefly bursting its last residual strength to shine an infinitesimal light amidst the tenebrous darkness. Something that wraps around his heart with no regard for it and constricting. As he reminisces the desiccated tales of love and heartfelt promises that died with his own mortal life, Hanzo Hasashi let himself become disintegrated, as he became the prisoner of vengeance and retribution. Without his eyes flowing free with tender zephyr breeze that could caress, he would become this steely, defiant stone that would leak black tears and crimson blood. The masquerade of eternally-bloomed roses dwell within the mighty thrum of his heart, lest Scorpion wears gut-wrenching heartbreaks that tear him down to his most fundamental bearings in the fathomless depth of his eyes. 

Despite it all, Scorpion would wear halcyon effulgence of the summer sun in them, lest his inferno burning ablaze becomes an offspring of turmoil in devouted mantra set forth in order to correct the corruption of the world, lest his spectral being drowns and disintegrates in the corporeal world. How his full moon eyes sets forth unmade lines drawn with perfected care, as they have been ceased, witnessed soul-afflicting loss, and endured gentle decay in lieu of the zealous fury set in conflation as he collapsed beneath the torrential skies above. 

Now, the wraith’s eyes are far too gentle, the proverbial prowess once steeled to set with such unyielding dominance and intensity set with swarming burning passion. “The eyes of individuals do have tendency to ooze the intimacy or hostility of language, turning it beyond simple metaphor and urge. No longer, my eyes speak the perpetuated unbridled fury of wrath contained, as centuries of sadistic pain exacerbate the miserly longings and indignities of my death.” 

For his love of the sorcerer has released Hanzo Hasashi’s long-suppressed, ethereal beauty, striking him through his extraordinarily human features, which were taking over the blackened dripping ooze of tainted Nether’s grasping clutch. Perhaps Aku had been inevitably a fastidious aesthete, seeing complexities no other dared to see through his gruff, unapproachable exterior. “Not many could see the repugnant monstrosity of my being and still appreciate the ebb-tides of my humanity, somehow remaining in fragmented morsels. Nobody ever unraveled me so well since Harumi, and I believe no one will ever unravel me again. And nothing, but your arms will take me to heaven again.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

“  your bandages— you’re bleeding through them.  ” ( Scorched Souls; cause this screams floofy angst XD )

BLOOD RELATED PROMPTS || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || When the morning breaks, and the taut skin over his pectorals tighten from the dryness coaxed by the sun, to surround him in insufferable, blinding light, Scorpion would deeply ruminate and see all the signs of Shirai Ryu ending, all over again, with nothing prevailing and never resurrecting. A new life, far away from this wretched, condemned one full of scorched blackness and suffocating smoke of blackened moribund death, as he still recalls crawling on his hands and knees, fatally bleeding out and drowning in the most grievous pain, his toil becoming worthless, as if he has never existed. Scorpion wiishes he could say that his whole life was black and white, that the good moments were great and distinguished, and more defining than the bad. 

Scorpion still yearns for Death’s gentle hand, coaxing him into nonexistence, even as he somehow endures and survives through in Life’s warm embrace. For he will always find himself in broken places, and somehow mend all the scattered and sundered pieces whole. That way, even such unravelling disintegration will make him whole, more whole than he had ever been. 

Upon the ripples of their shared soft night, the stillness envelops Scorpion like a coffin; there are no breath sounds here, but the roots of his excruciating ache painted with smears of ferrous crimson, unhinged and swallowing him in encompassing fire. How such fire ablaze claims his body and soul, heightening the chaos, as the contradictions of feelings and actions that unify all this mess into a beautifully perfect char-harmonious pile of ashes. The path of Scorpion’s life always had been ineffably remarkable, filled with destruction and renaissance of his entirety. And they always will be, as the waning currents of his essence submerges Scorpion beneath the waxed transparency, lest his expression remains inscrutable and unafflicted. 

“My body should be used to exist in melodramas in a way it does not take in other genres, the fallibility, nor the capacity for hurt. Lest my proverbial pain manifests into a somatic ache in my chest; a glorious, throbbing reminder of the bounds of my heart, which too often overruns.” Perhaps Hanzo Hasashi still has so much pent-up love and affection that he couldn’t ever give away for shame that this level of exquisite, excruciating intensity will overwhelm. For his love knows no bounds, no price, no catch, and Death could not nullify nor make it utterly naught. 

As brittle as his being becomes, trying to hold himself still like a glass overflowing with pain; with some of it spilling onto him, into him, forever marking him without setting him up for heavy blessings and miracles. Scorpion would rather be cradled in an endless torment, lest his many thoughts keep boiling in his mind. “I am not concerned of my physical wounds, my beloved, but I continue to feel chained from within, trapped in the mayhem inside my head. For I live constantly drenched in dread, and at times, I would have rather be lain in a coffin than enduring the viciousness of my subconscious as I continue to ache with the loss and despair, as retrieved memories of brutal onslaught festers my contentment and happiness with you.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

“ You brought me back to life. “ ((Scorched Souls; yeets at you))

expressing love without saying i love you || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || The relentless, unstoppable hands of fate may push Scorpion on, and the wraith would never look behind; for he knows it would be his own self behind pushing forward the self in front. A perpetual coil still wraps around his damaged, reconstructed heart made of golden joinery, with all this turmoil, most often his head threatens to split apart and his bleeding heart hurts. First, it would tear him asunder, then it would sloppily mend him together. It may act like his authentic, genuine friend until the end, then it would bend and twist its smile into a glinting knife. Regardless, Scorpion will persistently and consistently catch the wave askew, sail to his destined horizon through the trials and tribulations, under the scorching tendrils of burning oblivion, and above the obfuscating quagmire of his wounded mind and soul that he once thought unhealable and irredeemable. 

Perhaps the wraith and the sorcerer imitate each other; living vicariously, walking in the same ruts. They even may dream of the dame dreams; all variations of a theme, but deep down, they feel the aching, the proverbial need to pursue their freedom to manifest their innate truth, to catch a wave. In eternity, had Scorpion spent barely floating amidst the moon precariously hanging over the earth; meaningless, but full of messages. The wraith has always been dead. He always has been dead, but he had long pretended to be something else; burning like a star, and convincingly, so that he feels sometimes it could actually make something grow in his long-desiccated and arid heart and soul. 

Whatever I do, I refuse to ever lose my faith and hope. Chances are, my best moments of life, my hardest laugh, and my greatest day are still yet to come. Scorpion ruminates before letting the depth of his seemingly inscrutable white eyes stare deep into Aku’s being. The devil may be quick to love his bloodlust and pain, becoming the catalytic fuel towards the world that mercilessly snuffed him of life flourishing and resplendent. Lest, it is much better to say yes to the unobstructed, yet unknown path of his future; for the burning constellations of his eyes become the everburning stars and his stalwart heart and indomitable soul may never relinquish to the whispering demons, residing still in the depth of his being. 

“If it weren’t for your own perceptive understanding and awareness of my own traumas and tribulations embedded still in my being, I could have never become a part of sky you know well, nor a part of universe which you are able to roam and explore like I do with yours,” their shared betterment and growth may not have been always constant; for relapses happen, and it wouldn’t ever erase their failures and shortcomings, a sense of powerlessness and throes of depression. Underneath the veneer of blackened and heavily blemished beings, perhaps even underneath the appalling thoughts that would plunge him back into the familiarity of abysmal void, will find Aku’s lips and strong fingers clutch his heart, his in time to prevent writhing demons from tainting its magnanimous warmth and resolve. Scorpion hopes, lest they fall to lose joy and find inevitable sorrow, they would continue to rise and triumph; for they were meant to born in war, thrive to fight, and build one another as formidable warriors of coalescing light and dark. 

“Lest my brain remains saddled with strange tenebrous shadows and silhouettes that paint my viewfinder with perpetual nighttime vignettes, while truths harken back to darkened paths and shaded walkways, my etched combustible anger and bloodthirsty revenge remains mitigated, and causes much less ruinations because of you, and you alone.” 

Thirty Seconds To Mars - Rescue Me

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

“For you, and for any dear to you, I would do anything.” ((Scorched Souls))

BOOK QUOTED ❥    CLASSICS EDITION || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || In the battlefield of Nether’s war zone, even words shoot like daggers; acrimonious, bitter, and piercing. Scorpion’s hellfire may have been a Phoenix with conviction burning ablaze, rising again and again from the depth of destructive streaks that leave him and his world beneath the detritus of nothing, but dust and ash, but he still could feel every fabric of excruciating pain, harpooned and thrust onto him with barbaric monstrosity, threatening to macerate and mangle him towards his submission. A deep, neverending pool of fire in his ribcage that is impossible to extinguish fumes, lest his extraordinary, but not an invincible immortal being could hardly endlessly swallow his infinite pain down, as ache exacerbates to immolate him from within, tear every viscera imaginable, reaching even his throat and gaping maw of the beastly demon whispering him to become something entirely else. 

Time is said to be irreversible, and this is true enough in the sense that Scorpion can’t bring back the past.. But what exactly is this 'past?’ Is it what has passed? And what does 'passed’ mean for a person when for each individual, the past is the bearer of all that is constant in the reality of the present, of each current moment? In a certain sense the past is far more real, or at any rate more stable, more resilient than the present. The present slips and vanishes like sand between the fingers, acquiring material weight only in its recollection. Lest Scorpion’s heart and soul slowly wither like blossomed rose drooping and disintegrating, as it sits in the windowsill for far too long, waiting for sunlight, but never noticing that the curtain is closed, he will make a conscious effort to revivify the proverbial sunshine dwelling in the depth of his heart. 

The world may be a tapestry of wistful thoughts that reigns to catch sail, but never be achieved in the eternality of his lifetime. Maybe Scorpion was bound to hunger like predator and wander like prey; for the resonance of his betterment will require him to continue to excavate through his past memories; as the punishing onslaught of melancholia perpetuates and dominates his heart and soul. Overwrought with perplexment, the glinting, yet jaded depth of Scorpion’s intense stare sinks. Before the wraith could even understand the gravity of the words penetrating his being, unseen tears tender his marred, heavily blemished skin. 

The physical manifestation of his anguish, a permanent mark reminding him of his mortal death still etched around his neck in ugly imperfection as fissures of macerated flesh remains eternally covered beneath the onyx darkness. “My unstable, volatile world may fall swiftly on its unmeasured ellipse, and you got your own baggage of torturous subjection of psyche to deal with,” the haunted gravel of his timbre barely echoes against the sorcerer’s lips, as he defiantly shakes his head. 

Don’t tie your sense of self-worth to the lost cause, because it will merciless rip you in pieces when I finally let myself be slain, seeking end to all things. 

“The weight of my sin shall finally cave in and disintegrate me one way or another under the eyes of judgment by the deathly coast of Netherrealm’s demon, and when it does - I beseech you to slaughter me. You would do this for me, my beloved?”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

❝ Beside you, I slept better than I ever have on my own. ❞ ((Scorched Souls; gimme))

things said: assortment. || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting 

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Scorpion may allow himself to be wrapped in the blanket of night, waiting for an ephemeral kiss of darkness that will make him feel alright. His heart sparks in the dark, because he would find himself falling so hard like a falling star, soft as can be and so sweet; sweet like honey but magical like a dream, but more often, the perpetuated sadness and despair pulling, tugging, threatening to snap his heartstrings. Myriads of emotions may become forever entwined in his subconscious, never knowing which one will take the lead. They are choreographed by an act of undying love and devotion or a callous misdeed as monstrous beast of Scorpion’s misguided vengeance and wrath. But now, Scorpion knows better to cradle which of his emotions. The true freedom had long given him the lucid clarity of his mind, as wide, cyanic stygian depth of his eyes glow in the dim light. Dilated, fixed pupils no longer stare back as a black abyss, but with such ancestral resplendence of the proverbial sun burning with magnanimous warmth. 

The loss of everything he held dear to his heart suffocated his soul, and made him powerless. The onslaught of despair created irreversible confusion and chaos. Even asking a million questions didn’t help him to come up with the most viable and authentic answer, for he could never fathom to remember all of the questions he asked. Now, he knows better to beg, plead, maybe bargain amidst all of his self-blame and effacement. The pain of the past had steeled to become revivified vigor and strength, as his characteristic unbreakable and unfettered will, obstinate resolve will continue to carry forth his fate. His hellfire may be manifested ouroboros, continually eliciting destruction and renewal of self, so that he could continue to uncover his heart and soul and let the dualistic beauty and flaws of his being be shown. 

Scorpion’s full-blown, cyanic iridescent gaze may remained almost dead yesterday, maybe dead tomorrow; but how they scintillate and shine with intensity and conviction. Alive, glorious alive today, simply because Aku’s intimate proximity defies Scorpion’s metaphorical disintegration, coming like an avalanche; coursing and overtaking every cell, every molecule, and every atom of his being. Perhaps this unexpected interstellar bond between souls that has its hand on one another’s heart as their immortality hurtles through space and time and even through displacements of both. Scorpion’s heartstrings unbind and unsheath, uncloak and rend apart, break and maul, burn and wither - until only the bare nakedness is left; the mere thoughtform. How he yearns to be completely and wholly free and be eradicated of any and all past decay, scalded raw flesh that concludes the final phase of his rebirth through repentance and reformation. 

“My fervent and unstable mind refuses to come to an ephemeral standstill for me to comfortably and completely rest by your side, but your words of confirmation brings me abundant contentment,” there may be a twinge of envy for Aku, for Scorpion’s mind rarely settled to compliancy to submit to his bone-seeped exhaustion and mental fatigue. He supposes, true love must be the most inconvenient kind; lest he may remain evermore still, fearing the beloved sorcerer’s slumber may be disrupted or hindered because of him. 

“When I close my eyes, the proverbial darkness swarms my head, creeping closer to my skin. Its arms wrap around my chest and tighten their grip. My breaths shorten, as my heart palpitates faster. Thoughts swirling around my brain causes me to shuffle even against our entwined embrace. My stomach clenches and flips. Eyes open, light on, I wait for these feelings to fade away, but it leaves my eyes filled with unspilling tears and heart scattered elsewhere, but here.” Scorpion still may be a slave of ideals, a slave to fear; lest he considers himself intrepid with resolute stubbornness. And yet, it is odd but acceptable to think that his enslavement is because of humanity itself, as he still harbors it in his heart, spirit, and soul.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

❛  i wish we could stay here forever , and i could feel you in my arms for the rest of our days .  ❜ (( Scorched Souls; THE SOFT HNNNGH ))

𝙎𝙊𝙁𝙏 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿𝙎  &  𝙎𝙊𝙁𝙏 𝙎𝙆𝙄𝙉   ,   𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝚂𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳 𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚈 || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || He may have been deemed a loser in this game of life; and struggling with the unlife’s tribulations, chaos, and strife lingering like an eternal curse upon Scorpion’s being. Hanzo Hasashi loves with a love unparalleled; as a great mutual embrace have always been happening between the eternal and what was meant to die. Not even the irreversible finality of death has prevented him from seeking the severed conduits of his undying love, nor the conflagrations that would wreath around his being and threaten to disintegrate it naught. Stillness of the late night envelops him, and mentally and physically both, Scorpion knows he should be sleeping. But a certain particular memory grabs his attention, and realizing it beckoning him, when he attempts to memorize it, it slips away, time passing by consciously all the same in his exhausted restlessness. 

The world seems to halt when Scorpion is holding his beloved in his arms. How his balmy lips linger upon Aku’s crown, breathing him in in an uplifting rush as the quite splendor of the night settles deep into their shared chamber, lest the splendid contrast of the morning glory effulgently emanating as Scorpion’s Arcana manifests as the dawn’s wakened sun. No longer Hanzo Hasashi’s once-crumbled and disintegrated reality sits at the edge of the path where Scorpion, the wanderlust wanderer who used to long for the concept of hope, would fail to clutch it with all his might and vigor. Reality may have been like a shadow, like a mirror; giving him back and made anew. The flame knows its tinder, and the earth knows the root that crawls along its flank. It would know him in silhouette and solid, and such tenebrous darkness and reflection would cast Scorpion truer than he had been ever before. 

His love is a wild thing, the aching beast, the proverbial hearth fire that would spill with such intense passion and authenticity. His fire may be feared and revered, lest it now becomes the catalyst of his undying devotion and loyalty. There is nothing he wants than surround Aku, and in return, being surrounded by the arms of love that would be planted in the soul that mates to his. Scorpion could remain captivated, reserved only in their close intimate proximity within the fathomless seas of love, drowning in waves of desire. For the wretched reality’s distance would narrow, and soon be demolished beneath the secure position, put into effect and the access to his heart. 

“I am no longer tainted and corrupted by the toxic devotion, transmuting to become a damnation to every creation and recreation of my being,” the two full moons’ radiance smiles as Scorpion’s entirety beams with resplendent radiance. “Here’s to all the places we have trudged and endured. And here’s to all the places we’ll go and conquer to make our own. And here’s to us, whispering again and again and again and again: I love you.” 

Scorpion’s breath against Aku’s lips is intoxicating and warm like honey, as his unleashed passion from his lungs permeate further in the release of his essence. Lest they struggle forever with their respective broken-hearted songs of their lives, he would vow to love as if his entirety depended on it. No longer, Scorpion has to tenaciously endure the despairing, silent belief in his heart that he will never be held again; that touch, almost holy and almost healing, which would make his proverbial light shine so brightly in-between the cracks of love. Love itself, indeed, makes Scorpion want to hope again, that love would never be lost even in the deteriorating humanity as he would suffer beneath the pliableness of depression and trauma.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

“  Is there really nothing I could do that would scare you away from me?  ” (( Scorched Souls; this screams angst and in character for Aku 8U ))

just more misc memes || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || The whole process of dying may have been a curse, but he, Scorpion has become a war zone. Even after death has long claimed his soul; claimed everything, but his complete slaughter. A perpetual dusk settles in the depth of his heart and soul, as calm as the ambient sound of the Sea of Blood, but it may lurch in anomaly as conflagrations of his inextinguishable embers burn ablaze, threatening to engulf and devour everything in his wake. For far too long, seemingly for eons’ stretch of time, the wraith would struggle to grasp a sense of peace that he used to get in his heart when he arrives at a place where he is content, in mind, body, spirit, and soul. 

At nights, he used to rest well, with an imperturbable peace that would surpass Hanzo Hasashi’s human understanding. Perhaps his family and Shirai Ryu were the panacea even to his deepest, bone-seeped ache, a cure-it-all. But now, he knows sadness. Sadness doesn’t always manifest as crying and to feel despondent in depression nadir. For Scorpion plunges deep into the quagmire of that proverbial cold absence of feeling - that really hollowed-out feeling that would annihilate and render him beneath the bitter storm of his vice. In the discernible, yet fathomless abyss of his heart, there is a wrath Scorpion cannot quiet. It lurks like the beast ravenous to hunt its prey, and with every breath threatens to sink down deeper and becomes entrenched within the fabric of his pride and the reason of his existence. 

Despite the Nether’s penetratingly cold and quiet stare, Hanzo Hasashi’s sacred fires never died in vain in the disintegrating inferno of Hell. Lest his dripping skull buried deep in the empty tenebrous nights of crawling in the heart of his vengeance, among the old bones of clansmen and clanswomen. Still, Scorpion’s supernatural iridescent gaze teems with life, somewhere underneath the cataract lenses that had been long obfuscated with vitriol retribution and revenge. A hero’s swift plunge through the depths to the fading pulse of rapidfire as his forgotten beloved encircles by time and crushes by his heartache. 

“I have learned to accept my own chaos, for I prefer to be in the midst of constant awakening when I cannot disentangle my madness from reality,” Scorpion begins, the furrowed intensity of his visceral, poignant emotions surging, pressing deep into his throat. “I never wanted my life to be simple, yet I would adore to live simply. I do not care what I have to face, as long as there is an abundance of it. If I cannot share the life’s dualistic pleasures and pains with the others, the contradictions would form a labyrinth I will get lost within. The goal in my wretched life is simple enough; it is less about succeeding in the quest and more about reflecting upon my failures, incapability, and shortcomings to conquer my trials and tribulations of my present and future.” 

For his own self-discovery comes through in tandem with loving the sorcerer in the entirety, even Aku’s own demons and vices and all. No potent tincture of excruciating pain and suffering could deter Scorpion from loving Aku rapturously, as if he had been starving in eternal famine of absent love and devotion.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

@swordsxandxshadows​​ stabbed the heart.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || No one can destroy iron, but its own rust can. Likewise, no one can destroy Hanzo Hasashi, but his own demons can. How his subconscious walks through the catacombs of marrow, where crimson torrents flood the staunched growth of his being, but also destroys habitats of his deeply-rooted healing. Scorpion should be used to scrolling through his pain, to find the moment that had been the most cared. He painfully remembers, that precise moment of remembering that he has long surpassed this void of fear, wrapped in bed with his tears and despair. No fighting inside, as he was destined to be without ever breaking and relinquishing, but only giving up scared. 

Never in my life I have been scared, lest I would ever will to surrender my soul. Scorpion’s inferno dwelling within seem to cry out in defiant retort. His life may not emulate the unaltered state of bliss and pure unfaltering love, yet he would relearn the concept of his love will be evermore sempiternal, lest when everything else falls away. Scorpion sits back, and holds his beloved’s hand against his chest. How no heartbeat will ever sound the same as his, no fingerprint can mimic the way Aku’s swirl like galaxies against his fingertips. They may have left marks across the realms, making ripples in time, but nothing could surpass the resonating feel of his depression, rendering his colorful silence naught. 

“I shake with joy and with grief all the same. What a time they have, coalescing with one another, those two housed as they are in the same body and soul,” Scorpion will whisper all his sorrows and broken things that weigh his heart, to the galaxies above and every twinkling stars. He should be glad, for there used to be eons of construed time where the tide of sad pieces threatened to drain every inch of his existence. He may occasionally get himself stuck and stalled by bottomless cliffs he surrounds himself, but Scorpion feels less doomed and much more hopeful, lest the rotting stench of all his pasts scatter around him as he endures this familiar holes of despair. “I would like to believe this curve of pain leads towards a paved road of beauty, unmarred without the abysmal sinkholes of endless despair.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

a touch to silently make sure that they’re alright + a touch to give reassurance ((Scorched Souls))

touching tenderly. || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' But with Scorpion, the wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens, but it could never be erased out of the wraith’s subconscious nor unconscious. The shadow carving moves like some slither-bound night ghost in their shared chamber, slick between red light walls, and wavering images of phantom inferno, as nostalgia brings a heavy weight, as a time of reluctant surrender begins. What memories will unfold, as a swirl of yesterdays surround him; along with all the familiar faces, voices, places, and destinies, separating and standing before his unease. 

As a heavy sigh escapes from his pounding chest, judgments and fates, Scorpion’s proverbial guilt - his perpetual tormentor - begins to cause him to be afloat in blood-sticky unuttered screams of the innocents. He should be used to be being held hostage in a body by its natural cadence; driven by madness by the melody of his demon’s incessant silent screams that echo within those heavily-treaded corridors. Torment represented by an empathetic smile under duress, as his defiant conviction to endure and resist the draining exhaustion immolates him whole. How Scorpion’s eyes grow weary, and the defiant broadness of his developed shoulders give out, to wrack his spine in pain. Paralyzed and tormented by the visions of what could have been. How Hanzo Hasashi would have given it all, clutch the path already laid before him as the best of the best, the best warrior in Earthrealm without a challenge. 

Yet, he would instead choose to face the feeling of dread that comes from living, this revivified Phoenix hellfire that sustains and solidifies his being, instead of letting everything slip out of his grasp and lose the feeling of connecting so deeply to his memories of melancholia. However it may burn his atoms and molecules, eating away at the heart to molest it in black tar and douse in something eerily resembling gasoline, leaving a ghastly scar whenever he would defiantly writhe and resist. 

I will now bow, I will never break. The shimmer of his iridescent full moon gaze snaps open and gazes deep into the sorcerer’s being as his splayed fingers clutch over the place where his steady heartbeat beats, lest he nears the threshold of exhaustion. He no longer has to claw for air and see the world escape from his desperate clutch, for their shared bed radiates surface of the golden touch of sun on sand, drying from the torrential oceans of emotions experienced. “My heart aches for something so fierce and delicate that I would disintegrate and become naught if it went away, because at least then I would know this exquisite pain was something which was holding me together,” even when such phantom flaring flames become brume glossing over the fervid ocean of his being, his plangent visage would continue to rest, and eventually slip back into shallow slumber in Aku’s embrace.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜ ( Aku to Hanzo/Scorpion )

&. 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Through every storm they hold onto one another life a raft boat, Scorpion will be holding on like a tree digging its roots deep in its core. That no matter the weather, rain or shine, he will weather every storm with his beloved, next to him, digging in roots so deep. Because together, through rooted, they become alive, and most importantly, free. Scorpion still dreams of the exact moment in time when he will fade away slowly and slowly when his time has come. Like a sunset, may he close his eyes in peace after a long day of turmoil and tears.  And after he has set over the mountains, let the glow of his memories shine along the horizon like the fading sun. When they are all diminished and disintegrated, his sunlight will dim, as the stars shine the brightest over the day he has spent. 

The sorcerer had long saw the impassioned, fervent fire in his soul, and the child in the rarity of his laugh, and the fathomless, encompassing ocean in his heart. All the facets of Hanzo Hasashi still dwells within the Netherrealm wraith, malignant violence and wrath rearing its ugly demonic head and all, the sorcerer will see through the entangled, bleeding rose thorns surrounding the macerated black heart. Their undying, eternal love breaches the impervious shadows of the wraith’s soul; for his love transcends the sun exploded, its nova flare tearing through the mountains and stars fall into the earth, the hills turning to lava. 

No longer human, yet exposed to the detriments far greater than the threshold of what he can endure in such apocalyptic terror of their shared insomnia and nightmarish visions, but they somehow find strength within themselves, even when what stirs their consciousness may be pain and agony. Even when they place themselves beyond the confines of life, death, raging and ravaging of the world, decayed and morbidly distorted viewfinders reflecting the encumbered despair and agony, Scorpion oozes an aura of elegance amidst the endless cycle of darkness and retraction. 

Beneath his weakness and damage, the proverbial strength and virtue of the Shirai Ryu warrior exemplifies through the nurtured magnanimity of his everburning embers. For Scorpion always have felt intensely; it is his trademark of being truly alive and compassionate. There is no shame in expressing his authentic feelings, for that is the very fabric of what keeps his dreams alive for a more caring, humane world. 

“The darkness within our minds may twist and undulate like a snake, for this alluring trance is the song of nothing. But we are not nothing, for you and me are everything that keeps the very edge of the universe secure and livable. For no longer, my skin shreds like confetti and my bones start to melt. I cannot imagine pain any longer, because the world is bigger than it ever has been. And I also know what our nightmarish visions entitle. For our love solidifies and steels in our shared sickness and healing.” The weight of desperation settled upon Aku’s cautious words sink deep into Scorpion’s heart and soul, as an imperceptible smile etches briefly, along with the echo of his solemn timbre uttered quietly in their close proximity. “I will be here for you when the sun comes out and the veil of darkness lifts.” How beautiful cyanic gaze bleeds into the charcoal smoke of Aku’s being, smoke billowing from the burning fire of his caress as he cradles his beloved’s head in his lap.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

“ It’s dark outside, and it’s raining. My arms are much safer. “ (( Scorched Souls; cause Hanzo/Scorpion deserves to be held and loved <3 ))

sacred romantic moments || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || The intensifying pulse of his heartbeats burn through the insides of his ribcage, and his swollen and ripe heart continues to ooze torrents of sanguine flood, matching the torrential onslaught of the pouring rain. The purity of transcendent intimacy and the pleasures of tender sensuality is something Hanzo Hasashi takes in sacred solemnity, and yet, Scorpion often does not possess the wondrous protective strength of a man and a proverbial warrior who would hold his beloved and his clan tightly. His love had long disintegrated beneath the long-pondered awareness of stark revelation he refused to admit in utter denial. That he could never be strong and formidable enough to protect the oneness of the lovers who were dedicated to one another completely; such displays of rendered emotions born of many beautiful intricacies and understanding became brittle, as they became naught under the wretched finiteness and limit of their mortality. 

However, in the end, even as the Nether’s vengeful specter, would Hanzo Hasashi believe himself to be so profoundly and painfully human, utterly convinced that love, only love, could heal his brokenness. Whether as a wraith or a man, he always has been someone who exists in times of crises, and now all that he is longing for now is for this burdensome heaviness to end without having to experience further tragedies. Yet, the sorcerer holds him and Hanzo finds himself taken back into a world that seem familiar. Every time their bodies touch, the dreaded shackle of his past unfurl and glitter with poignant sentimentality and sensuality, tinging his honey eyes with a vision of returning home. He doesn’t have to scatter and fade into nothingness, as his chiseled face adorned with loose locks of lustrous ebony hair shifts to regard Aku. 

“My ephemeral serenity may have high tendency to slip into the haunting past, of its pain of lost love so sharp and potent, as if reliving its end every day and night, but you know better, my heart, no darkness could affect my steeled physique and psyche and no torrential flood could extinguish the passion and eagerness I hold for what lies in the future unknown,” perhaps his perpetual ache and longing would abate if he could unwind the taut tension permanently settled upon his shoulders, and hard-set jaw as his reflection becomes lost in the once-still, yet now stagnant and putrescent pond of his mindscape. The starlit sky was still in abundance above them, despite the impervious thickness of the clouds further drowning the atmosphere with damp humidity. Despite the somber melancholy clutching his heart whole, Scorpion could still be captivated by the sorcerer’s protectiveness, despite him being more than capable of conquering this surge of particularly intense blue. 

“I may continue to unleash my inner truth and cause you unintentional harm, and yet here you are, still offering the serene waters of your comfort.” Instead of whirling himself in kaleidoscopic disruption as chaos and disarray abounds his already unstable being, Scorpion could simply withdraw himself to settle upon Aku’s embracing arms, without the black nights stealing the lump sum of happiness and contentment as the sadness of heart and the weakness of body begin to mitigate.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

♥ ♥ ♥ + " You drive me crazy in the best ways, you can be hard to handle and not everyone's cup of tea but your perfectly mine. I love that undying fire that is your passion and conviction, your undying ability to never give in even when you are drowning in your despair and doubt, that unwavering devotion and love you show, and being undaunting in your protection and care. I never thought I'd fine someone as unique and wonderful as you, I still don't think I deserve you half the time and you deserve better than this tainted soul, but I can't help loving you, continuing to love you, and constantly falling in love with you more and more every single day. You are my everything, my heart and soul, and I love you with all I have to offer and more. You are my beloved one and nothing will change that. Always and forever. My beautiful Sun and Fierce Fiery Warrior. My Hanzo. " ( From Aku )

Meme I've lost || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Death used to be the definition that Hanzo Hasashi would never dare to speak of. For birth was the definition of joy and death was the circumstance humanity all fears. The fear that runs deep within his soul. To have to let go in such choice-less, defenseless, and humiliating ways when it comes to death, there is no real defense. Even Hanzo Hasashi, the greatest warrior to ever grace the Earthrealm did not stand a chance, for one day, death succeeded him all. Death became the winner, the win over all battles to survive. For his fragile, vulnerable mortality was not built for eternity, and forever became a word with a difficult realization; the very realization that none of them are forever. 

Maybe the universe is forever, but his human flesh would be limited through time, lest his severed legacy may last beyond a lifetime. Somehow, Scorpion has gained centuries’ worth of immortality, lest the immolating hellfire, along with inextinguishable grief lasts, like the ebbs and flows of mother nature. Even when Scorpion loves, the proverbial hellfire begins to surge in volatile waves, meant to bite into one’s heart and soul. Whether he is Hanzo Hasashi or Scorpion, he doesn’t love easily; for his love takes off the masks he fears he cannot live without and know he cannot live within. The reflection of his universal language is constituted as an undying, eternal love. Hadn’t his heart endured the onslaught of Nether’s torment, lest all of his mortal manifestations disintegrated and become naught in the spell of annihilating hellfire? 

Emboldened and ablaze, the scintillating sparks of his iridescent cyanic gaze intensifies towards the sorcerer. It is the unconscious urge that pierces his desire, as his extended limbs entwine around his beloved’s, as Scorpion would search for his eyes; finding only softness, a ravaged, scorched soul that had found absolute comfort in his. “Passion has been the bridge that had taken both of us from pain to change. Without the darkest hues of our respective past running back and forth our mind in vicious circles, all the shadows and demons running rampant, threatening to trample our hearts and siphon our souls, we would have never known the life-giving influence of love against an endless stream of agony and despair we carry in our hearts and souls,” they all have something to impart and something to deal with their own, but they should know for a fact that they will never be alone. Scorpion can still revel in the fall and excruciating pain that follows in perpetuity, because he knows how heavenly blissful and euphoric his love could be. 

“Even as we hit the depression nadir, we will come out of that place courageous, beautiful, and strong, because we are mended with indestructible knowledge and power that love prevails over any despair and suffering. It’s life that matters, nothing but life filled with abundant love – the process of discovering, the everlasting and perpetual process, not the discovery itself, at all.” A thin spread of Scorpion’s smile widens to reach the peak of his cheeks and the stygian depth of his large eyes. “I will continue to love you with depth and sincerity, for you will become the canvas, and eventually the beauty of my illuminating art, as I paint you with exquisite strokes of gratitude and bliss.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

“  I’m all yours.  Not going anywhere.  ” ( Scorched Souls~ )

affectionate prompts || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || The past is the spellbinding inner lullaby that threaten to keep him beneath the oblivion of eternal hibernation, and quite unaware of the actuality and frolic liveliness and aliveness of the sacred now. In order for him to liberate himself from this trance, Scorpion only has to come to a realization that life is here; right now, waiting to be beautifully entered with a heart of grateful love and a mind of attentive awareness. And as much the process had been strenuous and full of rough currents, 

Scorpion’s undying love is an absolute; when he says he loves someone, it is not because he wants someone because he cannot have Aku. It has nothing to do with him. He loves what Aku is, what he does, how he tries. Scorpion has seen his kindness and his strength, witnessed the best and the worst of him. And Scorpion understands with perfect clarity; for love is harmonious and versatile, doing unique and unspoken things, warmly assembling the needs of deserving of each other. Even if it means for a few stolen moments of happiness together before the fathomless abyss claims him. 

With scorching tendrils engulfing the extended entirety of his being, gnawing across his skin and bones, the depths of his unfathomable cyanic gaze being suffocated beneath the blazing inferno eternally burning the humble village of the Shirai Ryu. Call it a stifling, nihilistic emptiness, as oxygen thickens to sludge; each breathing sinking down his vacuous chest in feigned tangibility, accumulating upon his diaphragm in dense tar’s black. There, the dismal orb of pestilence, worse than death itself, as Scorpion already experienced firsthand what the fate much worse than death had been like. 

An omni-directionally clutching gravitational pull created at the infected, corrupted core of his being, while Scorpion remains sickened stomaching tar-tainted experience’s unjustifiable shame and regret, crammed down his esophagus in swollen lumps. His immortality being force-fed in burdened responsibilities of life instead of death, which would be very much an easy way out, a coward’s sinking descension. He would be consumed and devoured by the human lament, lest he wears the divine Arcana, his fire strengthened by the fathomless reserve of Nether’s inextinguishable inferno. 

“I wish I could burn tirelessly, or else, all the way down to ashes, instead of pathetically lighting and relighting, lighting and relighting as if a worn down match,” how the poignant, visceral intensity of Scorpion’s unblinking gaze becomes a stubborn candle, yet a chronic ghost of potent authenticity de-intensified beneath the spell of his despair and depression. “You are as foolish as I am when it comes to love. Even in suffering, agony, and torment, I have never lost the will to relinquish my undying, eternal love.” ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || 

[sasorikigai]

" Umf~ " (( Scorched Souls; cause how can I not? ;3 ))

Send me "Umf" If you think the muse is hot. || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Scorpion continues his grueling, rigorous journey of training his suffocated, blackened lungs, fighting scars and aches, as he recreates the body into a new construct meant for the newfound life and hope, instead of death and despair. Everything inside him must be hollowed out, become a void, empty of everything except anything meaningful. It must all be given away because he hopes. He hopes so much, that this will be what keeps Scorpion rooted on Earth, instead of Nether. How his adamantine bones replicate the architecture of a delicate, but eternal, timeless design that would withstand the deep shadows immerging and threatening to immolate him from within. And the melancholy he could taste from his skin, in exquisite haunting, draining the sweetest mellifluous voices from his daydreams. 

While Scorpion knows the shapeshifter is not complimenting on the literal fire engulfing his being, fibrillating to and fro the undistinguishable boundary of where his body begins and ends, the saddened beauty of Hanzo Hasashi’s proverbial being returns from tireless destructions and wars of his mind, as the aching survivor in him smiles the most rarest smiles of all. “Everybody deserves someone who makes them look forward to tomorrow,” for yestreday's pain and the grief of today perpetuated to settle upon Scorpion’s husked hollowness, and he would desperately wish it would just rain to wash it away. Even on the most gloomiest days, the taut furrow of his face would disappear like clouds on clear fall nights, because Aku somehow nestled in the core of his heart, illuminating his heart as the stars during his darkest nights. And Aku remains his only, precious shining light, despite them sharing notorious darkness that would suffocate even the infinitesimal beacon of hope breaching the long-desiccated soil. 

“You helped me to find my way back to myself again; slowly, patiently, intricately. I am still trying to find roads in-between my heart and my mind that connect. I am finding melodies that taste good in my soul. I may stray and take detours occasionally, but you helped me to find facets of me that were long lost in the tumult of all-devouring hellfire,” his chiseled arm drapes over Aku’s shorter stature, cradling him closer, enough for him to hear the strong and steady cadence of his heartbeat. How Scorpion yearns to exchange their essence in a total embrace - without caution, without any thoughts of protecting himself. 

“No longer, I have a hollow chest that reverberates with misery, pummeling at the breast at the bars. Love simply lets me be, eases its suffering. It lets me be uncorrupted by the bitterness that far too long encompassed my entirety. Now, my heart and soul and spirit blossom like golden dandelions on a cool spring afternoon, and perhaps this becomes easy on your eyes.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[sasorikigai]

@swordsxandxshadows​ stabbed the heart (Hanzo). 

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || The heart chooses; it is selective, exclusive, a swelling blue moon of connection and intimacy. For their love is like grinding teeth. They did not even know they were gravitating towards one another, seeing the duality and equilibrium of light and dark within one another. For Scorpion, there came moments when the only thing he could do was just let the fluids from his torn lacerations and metaphorical wounds of his immolated insides fall; because there were no words for when the scorching, erupting furor of might rises within him as his sorrow and melancholy would rip like apocalyptic ashes and dust. 

Anyone could have the audacity to close their proximity and kiss him, but this does not mean anyone wants to, does not mean anyone wants to change his proverbial, metaphorical bandages when the terrible wings of scorching, searing hellfire continues to immolate and decay Hanzo Hasashi’s remaining human flesh; its macerated red blackening and falling off, the dark blood inscribed on the bandages and his garments beneath the heavily weathered, yet withstanding armor. Scorpion is a beautiful, wretched piece of broken pottery, put back together by his own hands, in his own volition after such unthinkable, cruel, gruesome death. And a critical world judges his cracks while missing the beauty of how he made himself whole again, enduring and overcoming the fading grip of his reality. 

For both of them, time had long relinquished linearity, in favor of swaggering wildness of their capricious natures. Scorpion could very well be the source of suffocating fire, that will lick and devour and annihilate, but he could be the cradling hearth that warms through Aku’s body, soul, and mind. “It has taken me centuries to realize that if I want to awaken all of humanity, I have to awaken all of myself. While I could never eliminate the suffering in the world, I would at least attempt to eliminate all that is dark and negative in myself. Truly, you have given me an opportunity of my own self-transformation, instead of self-effacement and destruction.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||